Harry & Sophie Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
by Mana's Red Rose
Summary: This story has been copied over from my main account, RedRoseMana, to clear the clutter because I know some people would kick up a storm if these were deleted permanently.
1. Chapter 1

**Mana: Uh yeah, this is that Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone story but changed drastically!**

**Sophie: ...**

**Ron: Is she mute?**

**Sophie: ...**

**Harry: No, she just finds you really annoying!**

**Sophie: No duh**

**Hermione: Um, Mana doesn't own Harry Potter or characters, just any OCs that my pop up!**

**Mana: Thank you Hermione! Finally I meet someone with an IQ equal to mine, I'm surrounded by idiots!**

**Sophie: ...**

**Harry: ...**

**Ron: ...**

**Mana: Excluding you Sophie, you're pretty much one of the smartest ones out there!**

**Sophie: Thanks Mana, I like you :)**

**Ginny: Can we please start the story?**

**Harry: Ok!**

**Ginny: o_o YOU'RE HARRY POTTER!**

**Harry: -.-'**

**Sophie: -.-'**

"Up! Get up, now!" The auburn haired girl groaned and rolled over, banging her head on the door. Swearing softly, she shook her twin brother and pulled a brush off a shelf.

"Wha?" he murmured sleepily, reaching for his glasses.

"Up!" their aunt's voice screeched. Harry groaned and sat up, while Sophie struggled with a knot in her hair.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," Harry called back. Sophie smirked as she pulled on her blue blouse.

"Technically, you did just say something," the brainy ten year old girl said to her brave and reckless twin. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled a spider off his socks.

"Well come on, I want you to look after the bacon! And don't let it burn, I want everything perfect on my Dudley's special day!"

This time it was Sophie's turn to moan. For some reason, her cousin Dudley was even more unpleasant to her than to Harry, probably because she was a girl and she was smarter than everyone, excluding Harry, in the street. Well, she was smarter than her brother.

They opened the door of their cupboard and walked to the kitchen, where their Uncle Vernon and cousin were waiting. Harry walked over to tend to the bacon, while Sophie pulled out some eggs and another frying pan.

"Comb your hair!" Uncle Vernon barked at Harry and Sophie smirked to herself. No way was a comb going to make her brother's hair lie flat!

As she fried the eggs, she wondered how in the world they were going to eat! The table had nearly collapsed under the weight of all of Dudley's birthday presents.

Although Sophie and Harry Potter were twins, they didn't look anything alike, except for their eyes, which were bright green. While Harry was scrawny with black hair, a lightning shaped scar and round glasses, Sophie had long, straight auburn hair, pale skin and no glasses.

The twins had been told that their mum and dad had been killed in a car crash but Sophie didn't believe this. For one thing, Aunt Petunia hated questions, so Sophie was inclined to believe that her aunt knew things that she didn't want the Potter children to know.

For another, strange things kept happening to Harry and Sophie, although she didn't know how they happened. For instance, Aunt Petunia had grown tired of Harry's hair and chopped it all off. Sophie had spent all night comforting a worrying Harry as he had been scared of what the others would say at school. The next morning, however, his hair was exactly the same as the day before.

And when Sophie was eight, her class was going on an excursion to the museum. Fascinated, Sophie had asked Aunt Petunia to sign the permission form but she said no. The next day, the form was in Sophie's bag with her aunt's signature on it and she had been allowed to go to the museum after all. She had simply assumed that her aunt had signed it that night, but there was no chance of that. It had been clenched in her hand all night.

So far, the weirdest thing that had happened was when Harry was being chased by Dudley's gang. Sophie had been smart enough to duck behind a building but her brother wasn't so lucky. He had jumped to hide behind the bins outside the kitchen doors, but had ended up on the roof. He had been punished for this and Sophie was still wondering how he did that.

Sophie and Harry put the plates of egg and bacon onto the table (where they could) and sat down to eat. Dudley was counting his presents and Sophie, having counted them beforehand and knowing what was coming, began eating faster. Harry gave her a questioning glance and she raised an eyebrow.

"Thirty six, that's two less than last year," he said, his face growing red. Harry suddenly understood and started wolfing down his bacon.

Aunt Petunia obviously sensed the danger, because she added hurriedly "And you'll get another two when we go out today, ok popkin?" Dudley's face screwed up and Sophie smirked.

"So I'll have thirty...thirty..."

"Thirty nine," Sophie said, cutting a piece of egg.

"I feel stupid," Dudley said sadly and Sophie and Harry exchanged smirks.

"Girl, how dare you make my Duddykins feel stupid!" Aunt Petunia scolded and Sophie quickly took her plate to the sink and made a run for the cupboard, to be stopped by Aunt Petunia.

"You aren't going anywhere!" she said and Sophie shrugged. She walked out of the room to take a call and came back in two minutes later, looking worried.

"Bad news, Vernon, Mrs Figg's broken her leg and she can't take them," she said, pointing to the twins. Dudley's mouth fell open but Harry smirked. Every year, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon took Dudley out for his birthday and left the Potters at a batty old woman called Mrs Figg's house. She made them look at pictures of all the cats she'd ever known and even Sophie, a cat lover, hated it.

"We could phone Marge."

"Don't be silly Vernon, she hates them!"

"What about what's-her-name, Yvonne?"

"On holiday in Majorca."

"You could just leave us here," Harry suggested and Sophie snorted. Tactful she thought.

Yeah, well he thought back. She and Harry had a telepathic link and they loved it, they could get things out of their systems without the Dursleys hearing.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" Aunt Petunia looked as if she had swallowed a lemon and Sophie stored that away.

"We won't blow up the house..." Harry tried to reason but Aunt Petunia wasn't listening.

"I suppose we could take them to the zoo...and leave them in the car..."

"The car's new Petunia, I'm not leaving them in it!" Dudley then began to fake cry, wailing and covering his face in his mother's body.

"Dink Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let them spoil your special day!" Aunt Petunia reassured and he sent a smug look at Sophie and Harry.

"I...don't...want...them...t-t-to come!" he howled. "They always spoil everything!" He was interrupted by the doorbell.

"Oh Good Lord, they're here!" Aunt Petunia said frantically. In walked a rat-faced boy, Piers Polkiss. He was Dudley's best friend and he was usually a prime suspect in Dudley's bullyings. Dudley stopped fake crying at once.

Of course, he won't cry in front of his best friend! Sophie thought smugly. Harry laughed telepathically.

Half an hour later, the twins were sitting in the car, not believing their luck.

"I'm warning you now, brats," Uncle Vernon had hissed, pulling them aside before the trip. "Mess up and you'll be in that cupboard until Christmas!"

Uncle Vernon loved complaining about things. People at work, Harry, the bank, Sophie, Harry, the council, Harry, the post office and Sophie were some of his favourite subjects. Toda it was motorbikes.

"Roaring along the highway like maniacs, young hoodlums," he complained.

"I had a dream about a motorbike," Harry said. "It was flying." Sophie made a cutting-throat gesture and Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front of them.

"MOTORBIKES DON'T FLY!" he roared, spraying them with spit.

"We know, it was only a dream," Sophie murmured. The Dursleys seemed to think that they would get dangerous ideas.

At the zoo, Dudley and Piers were bought large chocolate ice creams and Harry and Sophie got lemon ice lollies, as the smiling lady had asked what they had wanted before they could be ushered away.

_Look, there's Dudley!_ Harry thought, nodding to a large gorilla which was scratching its head_. Only it's not blond!_

Sophie snorted at her brother's thoughts, he really did have the most interesting was of thinking! They visited the reptile room and Dudley easily found the largest snake there.

"Make it move!" he whined to his dad, who tapped the glass. Nothing.

"Boring!" He walked off with Piers, leaving the twins with the snake. The snake looked at them and winked!

_But that's impossible, snakes don't have eyelids!_ Sophie thought.

_Get over it, it winked!_ Harry replied. The snake's expression said I get that all the time!

"Yeah, it must be really annoying," Sophie murmured to it and it nodded.

"So, where are you from?" Harry asked and Sophie rolled her eyes. The snake's tail jabbed towards a sign that read Boa Constrictor, Brazil. This snake was bred in the zoo.

"So, you've never been to Brazil?" Sophie asked, a little sadly and it shook its head.

"Dudley! Mr Dursley! Come over here, you won't believe what this snake is doing!" Piers shrieked and Dudley pushed them out of the way. As they fell onto the concrete ground, Sophie's anger flared up and so did Harry's.

"Argh!" Dudley shouted, as the glass vanished. The snake slithered out and snapped playfully at the heels of visitors.

"Brazil, here I come...thanksss, amigo!" the snake hissed. Back in the car, after some hysterical ranting, Piers admitted that Sophie and Harry had been talking to it and Sophie flinched. When Piers had left, Uncle Vernon collapsed into a chair and Aunt Petunia had to get a large brandy.

"Go...cupboard...stay...no meals!" he gasped and Harry followed his sister out of the room.

"We're going to have to sneak food again," Harry murmured to her and she nodded her agreement. He tried to remember their parents' deaths but all he could remember was a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead.

"Harry, don't think about it," Sophie murmured, sensing his thoughts, and he nodded. They had always thought wistfully of some unknown relation that would come and take them away but they knew that their aunt and uncle were their only surviving relatives, apart from Dudley.

A man in a violet top hat had bowed to them once in a shop, a wild-looking woman dressed in green had waved to them on a bus and a bald man in a long purple coat had actually shaken their hands in the street. They all seemed to vanish whenever Harry and Sophie tried to get a better look at them and Sophie was still pondering this even now.

At school, they only had each other. Everyone knew that Dudley and his gang hated the weird Potter twins and no one wanted to disagree with Dudley's gang if they wanted to live.

**Mana: Yay, chapter one done!**

**Sophie: I'm a Parselmouth?**

**Mana: o.o How do you know that?**

**Sophie: I read...**

**Ginny: Harry, can I have your autograph?**

**Harry: o.o**

**Hermione: Who's that whining in the background?**

**Ron: Not me!**

**Mana: -.-' Yeah, I'd better go, my idiot brother's whinging for a turn on the computer! Bye! Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Mana: Hi peeps, we're back!**

**Sophie: Obviously...**

**Hermione: Harry, did you manage to shake off Ginny?**

**Harry: (panting) Just...barely...**

**Sophie: (smirks)**

**Ron: Yeah, my sister can go a little bit crazy over Harry...**

**Mana: Hey, I just found out something really interesting!**

**Sophie: What?**

**Mana: You know how Sophie is really brainy and intelligent?**

**Harry: Yeah...**

**Mana: Well, the name Sophie is Greek in origin and it means wisdom!**

**Sophie: ...**

**Mana: I know, I didn't realise that until now!**

**Hermione: Wow Mana, you really are smart...**

**Mana: (smirks) Oh yeah, I'm debating on whether to put Sophie in Slytherin or Ravenclaw! Ravenclaw coz she's really smart and loves learning, or Slytherin coz she's cunning, cold and a little rude!**

**Sophie: ...**

**Ron: NOT SLYTHERIN!**

**Sophie: You'd still be my friend though, wouldn't you?**

**Ron: ...Um, ye-ah...**

**Sophie: (rolls eyes)**

**Hermione: (whacks Ron) I'd be your friend!**

**Sophie: (smiles)**

**Harry: Mana doesn't own me, Ron, Hermione or the original story! Only Sophie-**

**Sophie: No one owns me...**

**Mana: I wonder what you call a group of four people, three is a trio...**

**Hermione: Shouldn't you know?**

**Mana: Oh yeah, quartet! So instead of the Golden Trio, you guys would be the Golden Quartet!**

**Ron: Golden Quartet...**

**Mana: Golden Trio sounds better, though!**

**Harry: Yeah, here's the story...**

After the boa constrictor incident, Harry and Sophie were forced to endure their longest ever punishment. The summer holidays had started by the time they were allowed out of their cupboard and already Dudley had broken the majority of his birthday presents.

"Boy, am I glad school's over," Harry sighed to Sophie as they walked around the neighbourhood.

"Yeah but it means that we're only safe out here," Sophie replied. Dudley brought his gang around to their house every day and they loved joining in Dudley's favourite sport: Potter Hunting.

Dudley's gang consisted of Piers, Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon, as well as the leader, Dudley. Harry had always said that Dudley was the leader because he was the biggest and most stupid out of all of them. Sophie had privately agreed with her brother.

After the holidays, the twins would finally be able to escape their fat whale of a cousin, as they would be shipped off to different high schools **(A/N I don't really put A/Ns in but this is important; I may put in different words like here, where I've done high instead of secondary. This is because I'm Australian. Cleared that up?)** Dudley was going to Smeltings, Uncle Vernon's old school. Sophie and Harry, however, were going to attend Stonewall High, which they were ecstatic about, as it would get them away from their cousin. Dudley thought that the fact that they were going to Stonewall High was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilets their first day at Stonewall," he sneered. "Want to come upstairs and practise?"

"No thanks," Harry replied. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it; it might be sick!" He bolted before Dudley could work out what he had said but Sophie had to add something in.

"Yeah, I'd love to practise but could we substitute your head for mine? That'd really be fun!" She ran off too, knowing that if she had used a simpler word than substitute, Dudley would have understood her.

In July, Aunt Petunia left the twins at Mrs Figg's while she took Dudley to buy his new uniform. She wasn't as fond as her cats as before, having broken her leg when she tripped over one of them. She let Harry and Sophie watch TV and gave them a bit of chocolate cake.

That evening, Dudley put on a fashion show with his new uniform, which consisted of a maroon tailcoat, orange knickerbockers and boaters, which were flat straw hats. He also had a knobbly stick, which was meant to be used for hitting each other when teachers weren't looking. How this was supposed to be training for later life, Sophie had no idea.

Uncle Vernon said that it was the proudest moment of his life and Aunt Petunia burst into tears and sobbed that she couldn't believe that her Ickle Duddykins was all grown up. Sophie and Harry had to run for their cupboard, trying not to laugh until they made it.

The next morning, they walked to the kitchen, where a horrible smell resided. Harry and Sophie looked into a bucket of dirty rags in grey water.

"What's this?" Sophie asked her aunt. Aunt Petunia's lips pursed.

"Your new school uniform." Harry stared into the bucket again.

"Oh," he said. "I didn't realise it had to be so wet." Sophie snorted as Uncle Vernon and Dudley walked into the room, wrinkling their noses at the smell. Dudley banged his stick on the table; he had become accustomed to carrying it around everywhere. The mail slot clicked and some letters fell through.

"Get the post Dudley," Uncle Vernon said from behind his newspaper, which he had unrolled when he sat down.

"Make Harry or Sophie get it."

"Get the post Harry."

"Make Dudley get it." Sophie smirked.

"Poke him with your Smeltings stick, Dudley." Harry dodged Dudley's stick and went to get the mail. He picked them up and sifted through all four of them, looking at the recipient names. Uncle Vernon, Uncle Vernon, Miss. S. Potter, Mr. H. Potter...Wait a moment! There was a letter for him and a letter for his sister? Who would want to write to him?

"Hurry up boy!" Uncle Vernon called to his nephew. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his joke and Sophie rolled her eyes. Harry walked back into the kitchen, pondering over the letters, and gave Uncle Vernon his bill and postcard. He handed Sophie her letter and she looked at him strangely. Her eyes widened when she saw the exact address on the front:

_Miss. S. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

Harry's was worded exactly the same, except for the name. They turned their letters over and Sophie marvelled at the seal, with a lion, a badger, a snake and an eagle surrounding a large H.

"Marge's ill," Uncle Vernon read from the postcard. "Ate a funny whelk..."

"Dad! Dad, they have something!" Dudley pointed at Harry and Sophie, who were in the process of opening their letters. Sophie had just been about to read hers, when it was snatched away and she caught one word: witch.

"That's mine!" Harry said, trying to get his letter.

"Who'd be writing to you two?" Uncle Vernon sneered and opened the letters. His face changed colour rapidly and he gasped "P-P-Petunia!"

Dudley tried to grab the letters but Uncle Vernon held them up and handed Sophie's to Aunt Petunia. She made a choking noise and grabbed her throat.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness...Vernon!"

Drama queen much? Sophie thought and Harry snorted in his thoughts.

"I want to read those letters!" Dudley said loudly.

"Well, we want to read them, as they're ours!" Harry said furiously and Sophie nodded, a death glare on her face.

"Get out, all three of you!" Uncle Vernon croaked, stuffing Harry's letter back into its envelope.

"WE WANT OUR LETTERS!" Sophie and Harry shouted at the same time. Harry looked at Sophie in surprise. She never yelled!

"OUT!" Uncle Vernon grabbed the boys and threw them out, while Aunt Petunia grabbed Sophie's hair and pushed her to join the boys. The door slammed and Harry and Dudley had a silent fight to see who would listen at the keyhole. Rolling her eyes at their antics, Sophie just lay down and listened at the bottom of the door, which she knew would be better to listen through. Dudley won, so Harry joined his sister on the floor.

"Vernon, look at the addresses! How can they know where the twins sleep?" Aunt Petunia gasped. Sophie and Harry heard their uncle pacing.

"Watching-spying-may be following us," Uncle Vernon muttered.

"But Vernon, what do we do? Should we write back and tell them we don't want-"

"No Petunia, the best thing to do is to ignore them! If they don't get an answer...yes, that's the best thing...we won't do anything..." Sophie wondered what had been written in those letters to make her aunt and uncle behave in that way.

"But-" Uncle Vernon cut her off again.

"I'm not having two in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took them in that we'd try and stamp out all that dangerous nonsense?"

That evening, when Uncle Vernon finished work, he visited the twins in their cupboard, who were both reading the only two books they had.

"Where are our letters?" Harry demanded the moment Uncle Vernon's large head popped through the door.

"No one, they were addressed to you two by mistake. I have burned them."

"It was NOT a mistake, they had our cupboard on them!" Harry protested.

"SILENCE!" Uncle Vernon yelled and some spiders fell from the ceiling. Sophie smiled and started to play with one, letting it crawl up her arm and over her head. Uncle Vernon looked at her like she was mad.

He took a deep breath and, in a nicer tone, said "Er-yes, Harry and Sophie-about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking...you two are really getting a bit big for it...we think it might be nice if the both of you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

"What's the catch?" Sophie said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Uncle Vernon said quietly.

"You never do something nice for us unless you have something to gain from it," Sophie said and his face turned red, but he took a deep breath again.

"Just take your stuff upstairs now!" he snapped.

The house had four bedrooms; Aunt Petunia's and Uncle Vernon's, the guest room, Dudley's room where he slept and his second room where he kept everything that wouldn't fit into his first room. Uncle Vernon had set up two of Dudley's old beds for the twins and they each chose a bed. Harry sat down with a sigh and he and his sister surveyed the room. Nearly everything in here was broken. Sophie's eyes scanned over a camera, a tank, a broken television set, a birdcage, a rifle and Sophie gave a gasp of delight as she saw shelves of books that Dudley hadn't bothered to touch.

"Yes!" she said, snatching a book off a shelf and beginning to read it. Harry smiled at his sister's antics. He knew how much she loved books and the only time she could read, aside from in their cupboard, was at school in the library.

"You know, yesterday I'd have given anything to be up here," Harry said to Sophie. "But now I'd rather being in the cupboard with our letters."

"I know," Sophie agreed, still absorbed in her book.

Next morning, Dudley was in shock. He had had his worst temper tantrum yet and he still didn't have his second room back. The click of mail was heard and Uncle Vernon, seemingly trying to be nice to them, made Dudley go and get it. Sophie knew that it was to stop them getting their letters.

"There's more!" Dudley shouted from the hall and Uncle Vernon ran down the hall, wrestled Dudley and snatched the letters. By the time Uncle Vernon straightened up, Harry was around his neck and Sophie was sitting on his head. He shook his niece and nephew off and wheezed "You-twins-go to your room! Dudley, go-just go!"

"Someone knew that we'd been moved up here," Harry said to Sophie, who buried herself in her book to hide her tears. The line The Cupboard under the Stairs had been replaced by The Smallest Bedroom. They had caught sight of it while wrestling their uncle.

Harry had a plan to get his and his sisters letters!

"Not going to work," Sophie sung smugly, getting over her sudden sadness. Harry glared at her playfully.

"Get out of my head!" he said.

"Can't," Sophie replied.

The repaired alarm clock rang at 6 o'clock the next morning and Harry quickly shut it off and dressed.

"Not going to work," Sophie said sleepily from her bed but her brother ignored her. He stole downstairs, turning on no lights. He was going to wait for the postman and get the letters for 4 Privet Drive first. He crept towards the front door, heart banging, when-

"ARRGGGHHH!"

Harry leapt into the air, realising that he'd stepped on his uncle's face. Lights clicked on and Sophie ran downstairs to see what had happened.

"Told you so." Sophie's voice floated up from inside the book she was reading, while Harry was making Uncle Vernon a cup of tea. He poked his tongue out at her and she smirked. Uncle Vernon walked into the kitchen with the remains of letters in his hands.

That day, Uncle Vernon didn't go to work. Instead, he stayed at home and nailed the mail slot shut.

"If they can't deliver them, they'll just have to give up!" Uncle Vernon reasoned to Aunt Petunia.

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, they're not like you and me." He tried to knock in a nail with a piece of fruitcake that Aunt Petunia had given him.

"I feel happy for them," Harry murmured to Sophie, who snorted from in her book. He rolled his eyes and grinned. Ever since he and Sophie had moved into the room, she hadn't stopped reading!

On Friday, twelve letters had arrived, six each for Sophie and Harry. They had been pushed under the door, through the sides and through the window in the downstairs bathroom.

After burning the letters, Uncle Vernon nailed up the cracks around the front and back door so that no one could get in or out. He hummed 'Tiptoe Through the Tulips' and jumped at little noises.

_He's paranoid,_ Sophie thought to Harry, who agreed.

On Saturday, twenty four letters managed to get in, rolled up inside the eggs that the confused milkman handed Aunt Petunia through the window. Uncle Vernon made lots of phone calls, trying to find someone to complain to, and Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her blender.

On Sunday, Uncle Vernon sat down at the table, looking happy.

"No post on Sunday," he said gleefully, spreading marmalade on his newspaper. Something whizzed down the chimney then and hit him on the back of the head. About thirty or forty letters started streaming in and Harry jumped up, trying to catch one, while the Dursley's ducked. Sophie however just bent down and picked one up.

"OUT!" Uncle Vernon roared, throwing the twins out into the hall. Sophie's letter was open and she caught the words Hogwarts and Witchcraft before Uncle Vernon snatched it away.

"That does it," Uncle Vernon said, pulling at his moustache. "I want everyone back here in five minutes. Just pack some clothes, we're going away!" Sophie managed to pack twenty books before her uncle snatched her bag and threw it into the car. Dudley however had been whacked for trying to pack his television, video recorder and computer in his sports bag.

They drove and drove and even Aunt Petunia didn't ask her husband where they were going. Sometimes, Uncle Vernon would turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.

"Shake 'em off..." he'd mutter whenever he did this.

By night, Dudley was howling. They hadn't eaten or drunk all day, he'd missed some TV programs and he missed blowing up aliens on his computer.

"Welcome to our world, Ickle Duddykins," Sophie smirked and he glared at her.

At last, they stopped outside a gloomy looking hotel. The kids' room had twin beds and Sophie forced Harry into one, before settling down on the floor. However, he pulled her up next to him and they slept together all night. Well, when they got to sleep, that is. Harry looked down at the cars and wondered about something, while Sophie read a book in the dim light.

In the morning, they ate stale cornflakes and tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast. When they had finished, the owner came over to their table.

"'Scuse me, but are two of you Mr. H. Potter and Miss. S. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk." She held up two letters, so that they could read the addresses.

_Mr. H. Potter_

_Room 17_

_Railview Hotel_

_Cokeworth_

_Miss. S. Potter_

_Room 17_

_Railview Hotel_

_Cokeworth_

Harry and Sophie made a grab for the letters but Uncle Vernon grabbed them.

"I'll take them," he said quickly and following the woman.

"Wouldn't it just be better to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested hours later, but their uncle didn't listen.

No one knew exactly what he was looking for. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head and set off again. The same thing happened in a number of places.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley said to his mother and Harry and Sophie shared smirks.

Uncle Vernon had parked the car at the coast and Sophie breathed in the salty air before he rolled the window up. He locked the car and disappeared.

It started to rain and Dudley sniffed as raindrops fell onto the car.

"It's Monday. The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television," he told Aunt Petunia.

This reminded the twins of something. If it was Monday, then tomorrow was their eleventh birthday. Of course, it wasn't as if they had particularly fun birthdays. Last year, Harry had received a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, while Sophie had also gotten a coat hanger and a toothpick.

Still, you weren't eleven every day, Harry reasoned. Sophie couldn't care less about whether she was eleven or seventy; the Dursley's still wouldn't care. But when she was seventy, they wouldn't be around, so that would probably be the better age.

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling.

_Uh oh,_ Sophie thought.

_Yeah, if he's smiling, that's not good,_ Harry agreed.

He was also carrying a long, thin package and ignored Aunt Petunia when she asked what was in it.

"Found the perfect place!" he said gleefully. "Come on!"

Outside, it was freezing. Uncle Vernon pointed at a large rock out at sea, where a shack was perched. A toothless old man hobbled up, grinning wickedly, and pointed at a boat.

"Storm forecast for tonight! And this gentleman has kindly agreed to lend us his boat!" Uncle Vernon rubbed his hands.

"I've already got us some rations, so all aboard!"

In the boat, it was deathly cold. Water slid down their necks and a chilly wind buffeted them. After what seemed like hours, they reached the shack and Sophie dragged her books inside, with Harry's help. She had tried her hardest to keep them from getting wet but alas some of them were soaked.

Inside, it was horrid; the smell of seaweed was strong, the fireplace was damp and there were gaps in the wall where the wind whistled through.

"You call these rations?" Sophie said in outrage to her uncle, holding a bag of chips and a banana. All her uncle did was to give her an unpleasant smile.

He tried to start a fire but the bags just shrivelled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, couldn't we?" he said cheerfully and Harry and Sophie privately agreed.

_Guess we are pessimistic._ he thought to his sister and she agreed.

At night, the storm that was promised flared up. The wind rushed, lightning lit up the sky, thunder cracked and the waves splashed the sides of the hut. A few blankets were found and given to Dudley, with the exception of one for the twins. Their aunt and uncle went to the lumpy bed next door and Sophie found a soft piece of dusty floor for her and her brother.

They drew a dust cake with eleven candles and, as the time on Dudley's watch reached midnight, Sophie said "Happy birthday Harry," while Harry said "Happy birthday Sophie." They blew out the candles, then a BOOM was heard on the door.

"What?" they gasped.

And again: BOOM!

**Mana: Oooh, I wonder who that can be!**

**Sophie: No you don't**

**Hermione: It's a teasing question, she's teasing you**

**Sophie: ...**

**Harry: ...**

**Ron: Who knocks that loudly?**

**Mana: I know!**

**Sophie: (sighs) Bye everyone...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Mana: Yay, chappie threeeeeeee! I actually kinda want to get to the Sorting!**

**Sophie: Why?**

**Mana: Coz the readers will decide where you go dear Sophie! There's a poll on my profile where my dear readers will decide which house you get Sorted into!**

**Sophie: ...**

**Harry: ...**

**Mana: Coz you have traits of all four houses, I can't decide where to put you!**

**Hermione: O-k**

**Ron: I'd die if I got put in Slytherin!**

**Sophie: Ro-on, currently not helping me...**

**Ron: ...**

**Hermione: You Weasley boys have no tact at all!**

**Harry: (snorts)**

**Sophie: Neither do Potter boys**

**Harry: Hey!**

**Mana: (in one breath) I don't own Harry Potter, Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger, or even other canon characters that will appear, only OCs!**

**Ron: You sound like Hermione!**

**Hermione: (whacks)**

**Ron: Ow!**

**Mana: -.- Here's the story...**

BOOM

Dudley suddenly sat up and said "Where's the cannon?" Sophie rolled her eyes.

Uncle Vernon ran into the room with Aunt Petunia and Sophie's mouth opened in horror.

_He brought a_rifle_?_she thought furiously. _There are kids around!_

"Who's there?" Uncle Vernon called confidently. "I warn you-I'm armed!"

There was one last crash and the door flew off its hinges. Sophie instinctively took a step back and Harry hugged her in comfort.

"Whoa..." she murmured to her brother. A giant man stood in the doorway, taller than any person she'd ever seen. He had a wild mane of hair and a bushy beard. His eyes looked like black beetles and you could just see them in among the hair. He squeezed into the hut and he bent so low that his head scraped the ceiling. He picked up the door and put it back easily on the frame. The twins' mouths were open.

"Couldn' make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..."

He strode over to Dudley on the couch and said "Budge up, yeh great lump!" Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mum, who was hiding behind her husband. Sophie smiled slightly but her mouth was still open in shock.

"An' here are Harry and Sophie!" the giant said.

The twins looked up into his eyes and saw that they were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you two, you were only babies!" said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yer dad, Harry, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes." He turned to Sophie.

"Bu' yeh look more like yer mum, Sophie, only wi' darker hair!" Uncle Vernon made a weird rasping noise.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!" Sophie smirked, while Harry looked like he was still in a bit of shock.

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune!" the giant said, snatching Uncle Vernon's rifle and twisting the end. He threw it into a corner and Sophie's confidence wavered a little. Uncle Vernon made a sound like a mouse being stepped on.

"Anyway, a very happy birthday to yeh two. Got summat fer yeh here-I mighta sat on it at some point but it'll taste all right."

He pulled a box out of a pocket in his overcoat and handed it to Harry and Sophie, who opened it. Inside was a chocolate cake with the words _Happy Birthday Harry and Sophie_written on it with green icing.

They looked up at the giant. Sophie tried to remember how to speak, while Harry's thank you was lost on the way to his mouth and he instead said "Who are you?"

"True, I haven't introduced myself," the giant chuckled. "Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." He held out his hands and shook their arms.

"What about that tea then, eh? I'd not say no to summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind." He looked at the empty grate and snorted in amusement. He bent over the fireplace and a moment later a bright fire was there. Harry felt as if he'd sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat down on the sofa and Sophie was wondering why it hadn't collapsed yet. But then, she reasoned, it had been able to take her cousin's weight. He started to take all sorts of things out of his pockets: a kettle, a pack of sausages, a poker, a teapot, some mugs that didn't look as if they were new and a bottle of amber liquid which he had a drink from before cooking.

Soon, the sound and smell of sizzling sausages could be heard and smelled. Everyone was silent but as the giant slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Uncle Vernon said "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"Yer great puddin' of a son don't need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry." He passed the sausages to Harry and Sophie, who were s hungry that the sausages tasted like heaven, but they still couldn't look away from the giant.

Finally, Harry plucked up the courage to say "I'm sorry but we still don't really know who you really are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and used his sleeve to wipe his mouth.

"Call me Hagrid, everyone does," he replied. "An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts-yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."

"Er, no," Sophie admitted and Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," she said quickly. She was never usually like this; she was usually distant, indifferent and quiet.

"_Sorry_?" Hagrid barked. He turned to stare at the Dursleys, who attempted to shrink into the shadows. "It's them who should be sorry! I knew yeh two weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know about Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" the twins asked in unison.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered.

"Now wait jus' one second!"

He had leapt to his feet and in his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall and for once it was near impossible to see Dudley.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that this boy — this boy! — knows nothin' abou' — about ANYTHING?"

That didn't make Sophie feel too good. She had always been top of the class (Dudley and Harry had been in a different class to her) and here this Hagrid was insinuating that she was dumb!

"We know some things," Harry said, sticking up for his sister. "We can do maths and stuff."

But Hagrid waved his hand and said "About _our_world, I mean. _Your_world. _My_world. _Yer parents' world_."

"What world?" Hagrid looked like he was going to explode.

"DURSLEY!"

Uncle Vernon, extremely pale, mumbled something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Harry and Sophie.

"But yeh must know about yer mum and dad," he said. "I mean, they're _famous_. You're _famous_."

"What?" Sophie said.

"Our-our mum and dad weren't famous, were they?"

"Yeh don't know...yeh don' know..." Hagrid muttered. "Yeh don' know what yeh two _are_?"

"Stop! Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy and the girl anything!" Uncle Vernon said, some of his confidence returning, and then leaving as Hagrid fixed him with a glare.

"You never told them? Never told them what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer them? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from them all these years?"

"Kept _what_from us?" said Harry eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic. Aunt Petunia gasped in horror.

"Ah, go boil yer heads." Hagrid turned to the siblings. "Harry, Sophie-yer a witch and a wizard." The silence was so intense that you could have heard a pin drop, if not for the storm raging outside.

"We're _what_?" Harry gasped and the silence was broken by Sophie laughing for the first time in years.

"Nice reaction, Harry," she gasped and finally calmed down. Harry just rolled his eyes and smiled.

"A witch and a wizard, o' course," Hagrid said Hagrid, sitting back down, "an' thumpin' good 'uns, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh two be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letters." He held out two letters and the siblings each took one.

Sophie slit hers open and read:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Sophie looked over at her brother and knew that questions were exploding in his head. Finally, he stammered "What does it mean, they await my owl?"

_Really, the first question you ask is that?_she thought, a smirk on her face. He rolled his eyes and grinned at her.

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me!" Hagrid slapped his forehead and pulled out a real live owl from another pocket. Sophie raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He also pulled out a quill and a roll of parchment. He scribbled a note which the siblings could read upside down:

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_Given Harry and Sophie their letters._

_Taking them to buy their things tomorrow._

_Weather's horrible. Hope you're well._

_Hagrid_

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Sophie, although she was a little stunned, smirked and pushed her brother's mouth shut.

"Where was I?" Hagrid said but Uncle Vernon chose that moment to speak.

"They're not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop them," he said.

"A what?" asked Sophie.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call non magic folk like them. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

"We swore when we took them in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of them! Wizard indeed!"

"You _knew_?" said Harry. "You _knew_I'm a — a wizard? And that Sophie's a witch?"

"_Knew_?" Aunt Petunia screeched. "_Knew_? Of course we knew! How could you two not be, my perfect sister being the way she was! Oh yes, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that-that _school_- and came home every holidays turning cups into rats!" She took a deep breath and Harry was staring at his aunt in shock. So was Sophie.

"I was the only one who saw her for what she was- a _freak_! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family! Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you twins, and of course I knew the both of you would be just the same, just as strange, just as — as —_abnormal_— and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you two!"

Harry had gone white, while Sophie was gritting her teeth and clenching her fists. Harry, sensing his sister's shock, anger and tumble of emotions, gave her a hug and she smiled gratefully, still very angry.

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their little corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry and Sophie Potter not knowin' their own story when every kid in our world knows their names!"

"But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious.

"I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh two, how much the both of yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, Sophie, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh — but someone's gotta — yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys, which Sophie mimicked.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh — mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it…"

He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with — with a person called — but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows —"

"Who?" Sophie asked

"Well — I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?" Harry said.

"Gulpin' gargoyles, you two, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went… bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…"

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Harry suggested.

"Nah — can't spell it. All right —_Voldemort_. "

Sophie couldn't see what was so bad about a name, why was Hagrid so nervous?

Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this — this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him — an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway."

_Wow, things were that bad_Harry and Sophie thought.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side."

_Good_Sophie thought viciously and Harry agreed with her.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em… maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' — an' —"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad — knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find — anyway…

"You-Know-Who killed 'em." Sophie's eyes started to tear up and Harry hugged her again.

"An' then — an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing — he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it.

Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh — took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even — but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry. And yeh too, Sophie, fer bein' his brother and fer surviving too."

No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age — the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts— an' you were only babies, an' you lived."

Something very painful was going on in Harry and Sophie's minds. As Hagrid's story came to a close, they saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than they had ever remembered it before — and they remembered something else, for the first time in their life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching them sadly.

"Took yeh both from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot…."

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Harry jumped; he had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there. Sophie had been watching them warily, apart from when she had nearly started to cry Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage again. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, boy, girl," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you two, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured— and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdoes, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion— asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types — just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end -"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley — I'm warning you — one more word…"

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

Harry, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them. Sophie had questions too but she knew that her brother would burst if he didn't get his questions answered.

"But what happened to Vol-, sorry — I mean, You-Know-Who?" Sophie inwardly groaned, not her brother! It was just a name!

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you and yer sister. Makes yeh both even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see… he was gettin' more an' more powerful — why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who were on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you and Sophie finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on — _I_dunno what it was, no one does — but somethin' about you both stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at Harry and Sophie with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. Sophie, meanwhile, was beginning to put all the pieces together

A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be? How could his sister be a witch? They'd spent their life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if he was really a wizard and Sophie a witch, why hadn't they been turned into warty toads every time they'd tried to lock them in their cupboard? If they'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick them around like a football?

"Hagrid," he said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard and I don't think Sophie can be a witch."

To his surprise, Hagrid and Sophie chuckled.

"Dear brother, I don't think that's how it quite works," Sophie grinned, reading his mind.

"Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you were scared or angry?" Hagrid smiled.

Harry looked into the fire. Now he came to think about it… every odd thing that had ever made their aunt and uncle furious with them had happened when he, Harry, or his sister, Sophie, had been upset or angry… chased by Dudley's gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach… dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he'd managed to make it grow back…Sophie wanting to go on that excursion and finding Aunt Petunia's signature on the form... and the very last time Dudley had hit him, hadn't he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn't he set a boa constrictor on him?

Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Harry and Sophie Potter, not a witch and a wizard — you wait, you'll both be right famous at Hogwarts."

But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you they're not going?" he hissed. "They're going to Stonewall High and they'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and they needs all sorts of rubbish — spell books and wands and —"

"If they want ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop them," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son an' daughter goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. Their names have been down ever since they were born!

"They're off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and they won't know themselves. They'll be with youngsters of their own sort, fer a change, an' they'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Albus Dumbled—"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH THEM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER —" he thundered, "— INSULT — ALBUS — DUMBLEDORE — IN — FRONT — OF — ME!" He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley — there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry and Sophie saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do." Sophie snorted in amusement.

He cast a sideways look at the siblings under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh two didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff — one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job."

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry.

"Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?" Sophie elbowed her brother for being rude.

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry, who pulled it over him and his sister.

"You can both kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

**Mana: And end chapter three!**

**Sophie: Who gave her sugar?**

**Harry: Why would I do that?**

**Hermione: I'm not that dumb**

**Ron: What?**

**Mana: Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!**

**Sophie: -.-' Review. Please. Or she will not stop. Bye.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Mana: I'm back! And so are my friends!**

**Ron: We're your friends...?**

**Harry: I wasn't aware of that!**

**Hermione: I'm your friend!**

**Sophie: So am I...**

**Mana: Only two people have voted in my poll! One for Ravenclaw and one for Slytherin!**

**Sophie: I'd go with either...**

**Mana: So, which do you want?**

**Sophie...I'll think about it...**

**Ron: I DON'T want her to go into Slytherin!**

**Sophie: Maybe I'll choose Slytherin to annoy you...**

**Ron: ...**

**Hermione: (smirks)**

**Harry: I don't see what the big fuss is about Slytherin...**

**Mana: Yeah, since I have some Slytherin traits too...**

**Ron: -.-**

**Mana: Ok then, I own EVERYTHING, except for what I don't own!**

**Harry: (laughs)**

**Ron: (laughs)**

**Hermione: Here's the story!**

Harry woke up early next morning, while Sophie kept on sleeping. Although it was daylight, he kept his eyes closed.

Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight.

_It was a dream,_he told himself firmly. _I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me and Sophie we were going to a school for witches and wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my cupboard with my sister._

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.

_And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door_, Harry thought, his heart sinking.

"Pessimist," Sophie mumbled, waking up from the noise.

But he still didn't open his eyes and neither did Sophie. _It had been such a good dream_Harry thought.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right," Harry mumbled, "I'm getting up."

He sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him and onto Sophie's head, whose shout was muffled in the thick coat. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him and Sophie smiled at his feelings as she finally got the coat off and saw the owl. He went straight to the window and jerked it open.

The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.

"Don't do that."

Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat. Sophie smirked at him and stroked the owl, who hooted in pleasure but refused to let the coat go.

"Hagrid!" said Harry loudly. "There's an owl —"

"Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.

"What?"

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."

Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing _but_pockets — bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags… finally, Sophie found a handful of strange-looking coins.

"Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.

"Knuts?"

"The little bronze ones."

Harry counted out five little bronze coins from his sister's hand, and the owl held out his leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

"Best be off, Harry, Sophie, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

Harry and Sophie were examining the strange coins but Harry felt a wave of sadness suddenly. Sophie looked up at him, curious, and he addressed Hagrid.

"Um — Hagrid?"

"Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"We haven't got any money — and you heard Uncle Vernon last night… he won't pay for us to go and learn magic."

"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh two anything?"

"But if their house was destroyed —" Sophie started.

"They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold — an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither."

"Wizards have _banks_?" Sophie said in interest.

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."

Harry dropped the bit of sausage he was holding and Sophie paused mid-chew.

"_Goblins_?" Harry said in alarm.

"Yeah — so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry.

Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe — 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you — gettin' things from Gringotts — knows he can trust me, see." Sophie groaned, knowing that you generally shouldn't say things like that in front of Harry.

"Got everythin'? Come on, then." Harry and Sophie followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking around for another boat.

"Flew," said Hagrid.

"_Flew_?" Sophie said incredulously.

"Yeah — but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

They settled down in the boat, the twins still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Harry and Sophie another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter — er — speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," said Harry, eager to see more magic and Sophie nodded. Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.

"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked.

"Spells — enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high security vaults." Sophie's mouth dropped.

"And then yeh gotta find yer way — Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."

Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the _Daily Prophet_. Harry had learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, he'd never had so many questions in his life.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself and his sister smirked at him.

"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"But what does a Ministry of Magic _do_?" Sophie asked curiously.

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"_Why?_Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone." Sophie thought about that and agreed.

_And then there's also the witch hunts_she thought to her brother, who nodded.

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street.

Passersby stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. The twins couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Harry, Sophie? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Hagrid," said Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up, "did you say there are _dragons_at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."

"You'd _like_one?" Sophie gaped.

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid — here we go."

They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to Sophie so she could buy their tickets.

People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.

"Still got yer letters?" he asked as he counted stitches.

Harry took the parchment envelopes out of his pocket and Sophie took hers.

"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."

Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed the night before, and read with his sister:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_UNIFORM_

_First-year students will require:_

_1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

_COURSE BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set of glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope set_

_1 brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

Sophie sighed to herself. She had always wanted a cat but the Dursleys refused to buy her one.

"Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud.

"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.

Harry and Sophie had never been to London before. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow. Sophie smirked at his actions, while Harry just said nothing, although she knew that her brother was thinking heaps of things.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.

Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all the twins had to do was keep close behind him. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke that the Dursleys had cooked up?

If they hadn't known that the Dursleys had no sense of humour, they might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told him so far was unbelievable, Harry and Sophie couldn't help trusting him.

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed it was there. Sophie however had eyes like a hawk and had wondered why the people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he, Sophie and Hagrid could see it. Sophie had the same feeling too.

Before they could mention this, Hagrid had steered them inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hands on Harry and Sophie's shoulders and making their knees buckle.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at them, "is this — can this be —?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter… and Sophie Potter...what an honour."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes. He then turned to Sophie and did the same.

"Welcome back, Mr and Miss Potter, welcome back."

Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming and Sophie looked like she was going to faint.

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Harry and Sophie found themselves shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Miss Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand — I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter and you, Miss Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"We've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement.

"Yeah, you bowed to us once in a shop!" Sophie added.

"They remember!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? They remember me!" The twins shook hands again and again — Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Sophie, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potters," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand and then Sophie's, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" Sophie asked.

"D-Defence Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it.

"N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potters?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep them to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on — lots ter buy. Come on, Harry, come on Sophie."

Doris Crockford shook Harry's hand, then Sophie's, one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Hagrid grinned at the twins.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you were famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh — mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?"

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience… They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag — never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject — now, where's me umbrella?" Sophie snorted at that last comment.

Vampires? Hags? Harry's head was swimming, while Sophie had a million questions. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"Three up… two across…" he muttered."Right, stand back, you two."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he had touched quivered — it wriggled — in the middle, a small hole appeared — it grew wider and wider — a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

He grinned at Harry and Sophie's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons — All Sizes — Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver — Self-Stirring — Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"Yeah, you'll both be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."

Harry wished he had about eight more eyes, while Sophie wished she could clone herself.

They turned their heads in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad…"

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium — Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry and Sophie's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand — fastest ever —" Sophie smiled.

There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…

"Gringotts," said Hagrid.

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was —

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was a little shorter than Harry and Sophie was about five centimetres taller than her brother. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, they noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

_I like that poem_Sophie thought. _It has meaning_.

"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and Harry made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr Harry Potter and Miss Sophie Potter's safe."

"You have their key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of mouldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals and Sophie watched the one on their left counting gold coins.

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.

The goblin looked at it closely.

"That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen." Sophie groaned to herself.

_Not in front of Harry!_ Sophie brother thought back _Hey!_Sophie smirked.

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he, Harry and Sophie followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked and Sophie smirked.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Griphook held the door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in — Hagrid with some difficulty — and were off.

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible.

The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.

Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Sophie however, shut hers and watched through Harry's eyes, another telepathic benefit. Once, they thought they saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late

— they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I never know," Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?" Sophie opened her mouth to explain but Hagrid beat her to it.

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."

He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry and Sophie gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All the twins' — it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much Harry and Sophie cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to them, buried deep under London. Hagrid helped Harry pile some of it into a bag, while Sophie chatted with Griphook about Gringotts. The goblin looked pleased to have someone interesting to talk to and Sophie asked plenty of questions.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained to Sophie, while Hagrid told Harry the same thing. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough.

"Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." Hagrid said, turning to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook.

They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck, while Sophie smirked.

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Sophie asked.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin. Harry shuddered.

Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry was sure, and he leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least — but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor and Sophie quietly laughed at her brother, while he glared playfully at her.

Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask, while Sophie smiled at her twin's curiosity.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Harry and Sophie didn't know where to run first now that they had a bag full of money. They didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that they were holding more money than they'd had in their whole life — more money than even Dudley had ever had.

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, Sophie, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop with his sister, both feeling nervous.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dears?" she said, when Harry started to speak and Sophie nodded. "Got the lot here — another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length, while a third witch entered and started on Sophie.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy.

He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry and Sophie were strongly reminded of Dudley.

"Have any of _you_got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Sophie.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"_I_do — Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute. Sophie gave her brother a look and he grimaced.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" Sophie disagreed with him. If being in Hufflepuff meant staying away from him, she was content to go to that house.

"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting. Sophie rolled her eyes, she REALLY didn't like this kid.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and Sophie and pointing at three large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Sophie, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second and now he agreed with his sister, Hufflepuff would be better than putting up with this jerk.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of _savage_— lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," said Sophie coldly and Harry looked worried, if his sister lost her temper...

"_Do_you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly for his sister, whose face was turning red slowly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all.

"But they were _our_kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean," said Harry.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool at the same time as his sister, who was finished too.

"Well, I'll see you both at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

Harry and Sophie were rather quiet as they ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts; Sophie had flaked chocolate because Hagrid somehow knew that she was allergic to nuts).

"What's up?" said Hagrid.

"Nothing," Harry lied and Sophie rolled her eyes.

_Convincing_she thought and he grinned slightly.

They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed colour as you wrote and he bought it for Sophie, who was thrilled. When they had left the shop, he said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh both know — not knowin' about Quidditch!"

"Don't make us feel worse," said Sophie. She told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's.

"— and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in —"

"Yer not _from_a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh both _were_— he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh both. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles — look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"

"So what _is_Quidditch?" Harry asked.

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like — like soccer in the Muggle world — everyone follows Quidditch — played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls — sorta hard ter explain the rules."

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but —"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry gloomily.

"Better Hufflepuff than that boy's house," Sophie said, annoyed.

"Yeah, better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."

"Vol-, sorry —You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?" Sophie rolled her eyes as her brother still said You-Know-Who.

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.

They bought their school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Sophie's eyes lit up and she knew instantly that this was her favourite shop. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of those books. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from _Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More)_by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley."

"I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level." He really did have to drag Sophie out of the shop, once he found her of course.

Hagrid wouldn't let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says pewter on yer list"), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry and Sophie, Sophie found herself examining silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each while Harry looked at minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

Outside the apothecary, Hagrid checked their list again.

"Just yer wand left — A yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh both a birthday present."

Harry and Sophie felt themselves go red.

"You don't have to —" Harry started.

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at— an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze." Sophie pouted and Hagrid laughed, saying he'd get her one anyway. "I'll get yer an owl, Harry. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing and Sophie was clutching a small grey kitten by the name of Charm. Harry couldn't stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell, while Sophie was in shock.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now — only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

A magic wand… this was what Harry and Sophie had been really looking forward to.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of the twins' necks prickled.

The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped, while Sophie looked around and Charm meowed in alarm. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you both soon. Harry Potter. And Sophie Potter too." It wasn't a question. "You both have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry and Sophie. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it — it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes and Sophie shivered.

"And that's where…"

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger, then turned to Sophie and touched her identical scar. **(A/N Yeah, I wanted to add it in, not too many people do that!)**

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did them," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

He shook his head and then, to Harry and Sophie's relief, spotted Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again… Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er — yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't _use_them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. Harry noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke. Sophie noticed too and she smirked knowingly.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now — Mr and Miss Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er — well, I'm right-handed," said Sophie. "And my brother is the same."

"Hold out your arms. That's it." He measured Sophie from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head, then repeated with Harry. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr and Miss Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own and Sophie smiled. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once and gave it to Sophie but it did nothing too.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try —"

Harry tried — but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander and given to Sophie but nothing.

"No, no — here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried and then Sophie. And tried some more. They had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere — I wonder, now — yes, why not — unusual combination — holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers.

He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

Hagrid and Sophie whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…"

He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious… curious…" He then seemed to have been struck with a sudden thought and pulled out another wand, giving it to Sophie.

"Try this Miss Potter. Ebony and phoenix feather, ten inches." She felt a sudden warmth and swished it, producing multi-coloured sparks. Harry clapped for his sister, Hagrid smiled and Ollivander wrapped it up for her and gave it to her, still muttering "Curious..."

"Sorry," said Harry finally, "but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry and Sophie with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your and your sister's wands, gave another feather — just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for these wands when their brother — why, their brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed, while Sophie paled.

"Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr and Miss Potter… After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great."

Harry and Sophie shivered. They weren't sure they liked Mr. Ollivander too much. They paid seven gold Galleons each for their wands, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry, Sophie and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. The twins didn't speak at all as they walked down the road; they didn't even notice how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the snowy owl asleep in its cage on Harry's lap and Charm purring on Sophie's lap. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; the twins only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped them on the shoulder.

"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said.

He bought Harry a hamburger and Sophie some chips and they sat down on plastic seats to eat. Harry and Sophie kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow.

"You all right, you two? Yer both very quiet," said Hagrid.

Harry wasn't sure he could explain, while Sophie was deep in thought. They'd just had the best birthday of their life — and yet — he chewed his hamburger, trying to find the words.

"Everyone thinks we're special," he said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander… but we don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? We're famous and we can't even remember what we're famous for. We don't know what happened when Vol-, sorry — I mean, the night our parents died." Sophie nodded vaguely in agreement. Charm managed to swipe a chip and she smiled and fed her kitten some more food.

Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.

"Don' you worry, Harry. You'll both learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll both be just fine. Just be yerselves. I know it's hard. Yeh've both been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts — I did — still do, 'smatter of fact."

Hagrid helped Sophie, who helped Harry, onto the train that would take them back to the Dursleys, then handed him two envelopes.

"Yer tickets fer Hogwarts," he said. "First o' September — King's Cross — it's all on yer tickets. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she'll know where to find me…. See yeh soon, Harry and Sophie."

The train pulled out of the station. Harry and Sophie wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; they rose in their seats and pressed their noses against the window, but they blinked and Hagrid had gone.

**Mana: Whew, 19 pages and 7672 words!**

**Sophie: Wow, my wand...**

**Harry: I know**

**Charm: =^..^=**

**Hermione: Aww, she's so cute!**

**Ron: Bloody cat, trying to eat Scabbers!**

**Sophie: Ronald Weasley!**

**Charm: Meow! (I don't like you!)**

**Mana: Go Charm!**

**Charm: =^..^=**

**Mana: Aww!**

**Harry: Bye!**

**Mana: GO RAVENCLAW!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Mana: I wanna keep writing, I've got nothing better to do!**

**Sophie: Uh huh...**

**Harry: How does this wand work? (waves wand and blows up chair)**

**Ron: Ha!**

**Hermione: Ron!**

**Sophie: (snorts)**

**Mana: Ok then, I've decided what house to put Sophie in!**

**Sophie: ...**

**Harry: ...Mana doesn't own us, only OCs...**

**Hermione: Here's the story!**

Harry and Sophie's last month with the Dursleys wasn't fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of them he wouldn't stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't shut the twins in their cupboard, force them to do anything, or shout at them — in fact, they didn't speak to them at all.

Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Harry or Sophie in it were empty.

Although this was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while.

Harry and Sophie kept to their room, with Harry's new owl and Sophie's kitten Charm for company. He had decided to call the owl Hedwig, a name he had found in _A History of Magic_. Their school books were very interesting.

They lay on their beds, reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Petunia didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice for Charm to play with. Every night before they went to sleep, Harry and Sophie ticked off another day on the piece of paper they had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first.

On the last day of August they thought they'd better speak to their aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so Harry left Sophie to her reading and went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room.

"Er — Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening.

"Er — my sister and I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to — to go to Hogwarts."

Uncle Vernon grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave us a lift?"

Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes.

"Thank you."

He was about to go back upstairs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.

"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"

Harry didn't say anything.

"Where is this school, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Harry, realizing this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket.

"We just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," he read.

His aunt and uncle stared.

"Platform what?"

"Nine and three-quarters."

"Don't talk rubbish," said Uncle Vernon. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."

"It's on our tickets."

"Barking," said Uncle Vernon, "howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you and your sister to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" Harry asked, trying to keep things friendly.

"Taking Dudley to the hospital," growled Uncle Vernon. "Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings."

Harry woke at five o'clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep, so he shook Sophie awake, who cursed sleepily but grew excited when she realised what day it was.

He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn't want to walk into the station in his wizard's robes —he'd change on the train. Sophie followed suit, putting on a pair of black slacks and a green jumper and putting her hair in a ponytail. They checked their Hogwarts list yet again to make sure they had everything they needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage and Charm in her cat carrier, and then Harry paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up, while Sophie read a textbook.

Two hours later, Harry's huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys' car along with Sophie's equally heavy one, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry, and they had set off.

They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for him. Aunt Petunia did the same with her niece's one.

Sophie thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

"Well, there you are. Platform nine—platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

"Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Harry and Sophie turned and saw the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing.

Harry's mouth went rather dry, while Sophie shook nervously. What on earth were they going to do? They were starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Hedwig. They'd have to ask someone. Sophie stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters.

The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when Harry couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though the twins were being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, Harry asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one.

In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. Harry was now trying hard not to panic, but his sister was almost hyperventilating, which was unlike her usual uncaring self. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, they had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and no idea how to do it; they were stranded in the middle of a station with two trunks they could hardly lift, two pockets full of wizard money, a kitten and a large owl.

Hagrid must have forgotten to tell them something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. Harry wondered if he should get out his wand and start tapping the ticket inspector's stand between platforms nine and ten but Sophie stopped him.

At that moment a group of people passed just behind them and Sophie caught a few words of what they were saying.

"— packed with Muggles, of course —"

She swung round and nudged Harry, who copied her. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair.

Each of them was pushing a trunk like the twins' in front of him — and they had an _owl_.

Hearts hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them and Sophie followed. They stopped and so did the siblings, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go…"

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten.

Harry and Sophie watched, careful not to blink in case they missed it — but just as the boy reachedthe dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.

"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you _tell_I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone — but how had he done it? Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier he was almost there — and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.

There was nothing else for it.

"Excuse me," Harry said to the plump woman.

"Hello, dears," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too."

She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is — the thing is, I don't know how to —"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Sophie nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you both have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

"Er — okay," said Harry.

He pushed his trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid.

He started to walk toward it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that barrier and then he'd be in trouble — leaning forward on his cart, he broke into a heavy run — the barrier was coming nearer and nearer — he wouldn't be able to stop — the cart was out of control — he was a foot away — he closed his eyes ready for the crash — It didn't come… he kept on running… he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said _Hogwarts' Express, eleven o'clock_. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters_on it, He had done it.

"Oh my god, that was awesome," Sophie gasped as she emerged next to him and Harry smiled.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, _Neville_," he heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

Harry and Sophie pressed on through the crowd until they found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk toward the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. Even with Sophie helping, it still wouldn't go in.

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins they'd followed through the barrier.

"Yes, please," Harry panted.

"Oi, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With the twins' help, Harry and Sophie's trunks were at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you —?"

"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" said Harry.

"_Harry Potter_." chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry.

"I mean, yes, I am."

"Then you're-" the first twin added to Sophie.

"Sophie Potter, yes," she said, showing them her identical scar.

The two boys gawked at them, and Harry felt himself turning red, while Sophie went pink. Then, to their relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mom."

With a last look at Harry and Sophie, the twins hopped off the train.

Harry sat down next to the window where, half hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Sophie meanwhile sat next to the compartment door.

Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose."

The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"_Mom_— geroff" He wriggled free.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins.

"Shut up," said Ron.

"Where's Percy?" said their mother.

"He's coming now."

The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Harry noticed a red and gold badge on his chest with the letter _P_on it.

"Wonder what that means," Sophie murmured.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves —"

"Oh, are you a _prefect_, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once —"

"Or twice —"

"A minute —"

"All summer —"

"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins.

"Because he's a _prefect_," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term — send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.

"Now, you two — this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've — you've blown up a toilet or —"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom."

"It's _not funny_. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

"Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

Harry leaned back quickly so they couldn't see him looking and Sophie smirked.

"You know that black haired boy who was near us in the station? And that auburn haired girl? Know who they are?"

"Who?"

"_The Potter twins_!"

Harry heard the little girl's voice.

"Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see them, Mom, eh please…"

"You've already seen them, Ginny, and the poor boy and girl aren't something you goggle at in a zoo. Are they really, Fred? How do you know?"

"Asked them. Saw their scars. They're really there — like lightning."

"Poor _dears_— no wonder they were alone, I wondered. They were ever so polite when they asked how to get onto the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think they remember what You-Know-Who looks like?"

Their mother suddenly became very stern.

"I forbid you to ask them, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though they need reminding of that on their first day at school."

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts' toilet seat."

"_George!_"

"Only joking, Mom."

The train began to move. Harry saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved.

Harry watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Harry and Sophie felt a great leap of excitement. They didn't know where they were going to — but it had to be better than what they were leaving behind.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red headed boy came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry and next to Sophie. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry, then Sophie and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Harry saw he still had a black mark on his nose and Sophie smirked as she saw it too.

"Hey, Ron."

The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train — Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Harry, Sophie" said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley."

"Another pair of twins," their brother sighed and the Potter twins flashed him a wide grin. Or in Sophie's case, a small smile.

And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," said Harry, Sophie and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you two really Harry and Sophie Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded, while Sophie ignored him.

"Oh — well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got — you know…"

He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his hair to show the lightning scar and Sophie reluctantly moved her fringe. Ron stared.

"So that's where You-Know-Who —?"

"Yes," said Harry, "but we can't remember it."

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.

"Well — we remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry and Sophie for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

"What's with her?" he asked, pointing at Sophie.

"She doesn't trust you yet, it takes a lot to earn her friendship," Harry explained and Sophie nodded.

"Oh," Ron said. "I was worried she didn't like me."

"I do but I don't trust you yet, like my brother said," Sophie murmured, reading a book.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry quickly, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him and Sophie.

"Er — Yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already," Sophie assumed, thinking that she should try out this boy that her brother wanted to make friends with.

The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy.

"I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts.

You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left — Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch.

Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first."

_Wow, poor Ron_Sophie thought. _He's got a major inferiority complex._She decided then to make friends with him and she warmed to him considerably after that.

You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up.

Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff — I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink.

He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Sophie felt sorry for Ron and his family and Harry didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, he and his sister had never had any money in their life until a month ago, and he told Ron so, all about them having to wear Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up.

"… and until Hagrid told us, we didn't know anything about being a witch or wizard or about my parents or Voldemort —"

Ron gasped.

"What?" said Sophie.

"_You said You-Know-Who's name!_" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you two, of all people —"

"We're not trying to be _brave_or anything, saying the name," said Harry, "We just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn… I bet," he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class." Sophie sighed and patted her brother on the head and he pouted.

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough," Ron said, grinning at the twins' exchange.

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Harry and Sophie, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to their feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Sophie gave her brother some money and Harry went out into the corridor.

He and his sister had never had any money for candy with the Dursleys, and now that they had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry — but the woman didn't have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bettie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs. Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

Ron and Sophie stared as Harry brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Sophie selected a cauldron cake and moaned with pleasure as she took a huge bite.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on —"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through all the twins' pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten). Sophie smiled at her brother's kindness.

"What are these?" Harry asked Ron, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs.

"They're not _really_frogs, are they?" Sophie asked. They were starting to feel that nothing would surprise them.

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you two wouldn't know — Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect — famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card, giving it to his sister, who smiled. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and moustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So _this_is Dumbledore!" said Sophie.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa — thanks —"

Sophie turned over her card and read:

_ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS_

_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

She snorted. _Chamber music and tenpin bowling?_Harry snorted too.

She turned the card back over and saw, to her astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!" Harry exclaimed, staring at it.

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron.

"He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her… do you want it? You can start collecting."

Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped. "Help yourself," said Sophie, trying to be nice.

"But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos," Harry explained.

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "_Weird!"_

Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his card and gave him and his sister a small smile from the seat where Sophie had put him down. Ron was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Harry and Sophie couldn't keep their eyes off them. Soon they had not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. Harry finally tore his eyes away from the Druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry. "When they say every flavour, they _mean_every flavour — you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavoured one once."

"And how would he know what a booger tastes like?" Sophie smirked and Ron snorted with laughter.

He picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

"Bleaaargh — see? Sprouts."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavour Beans. Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper. Sophie got chocolate, blood, broccoli, dirt, butter, beef, tuna, wood and pineapple.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Harry and Sophie had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Sophie, who liked this boy for some reason.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him…"

He left and Sophie stood up, saying she was going to help him find his toad.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…"

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway —"

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back with Sophie, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down with Sophie. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er — all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Sophie asked.

"Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard — I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough — I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?" the girl said very fast.

Harry looked at Ron, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "Then you must be Sophie's twin brother! I know all about you, of course and your sister — I got a few extra books, for background reading, and you're both in _Modern Magical History_and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Are we?" said Harry, feeling dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And she left, taking the toadless boy with her. Harry smiled at Sophie, pleased that she had already made friends, and she smiled back and left.

Sophie walked up the train with Hermione and the boy, whose name she learned was Neville Longbottom.

"Jeez Hermione, don't overload my brother with information," Sophie smiled as they searched a compartment for the toad. "He's not like me, I'm the smarter one."

"Really? I thought he'd be just like you!" Hermione said. "Then again, I guess twins don't have to be the same!" Sophie really liked Hermione; she was intelligent and seemed eager for friends.

"Oh, where's my toad?" Neville said frantically.

"He'll turn up." Sophie put a hand on Neville's shoulder. "Just forget about him for now and eventually you'll find him!"

"Thanks Soph," he said, smiling weakly. A small bundle of fur walked into the compartment and Sophie picked up Charm happily, saying "Charm! Did my brother let you out?" Charm meowed and Hermione smiled.

"She's so cute!" she said and Charm purred.

The compartment door opened and the pale faced boy slid in, followed by two cronies.

"So, is it true? You're one of the Potter twins," he sneered. "I'm Draco Malfoy and this is Crabbe and Goyle." Sophie rolled her eyes. Malfoy eyed Hermione and Neville disdainfully.

"You'll soon see that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. I can help you there." He held out his hand and Charm swiped at it.

"Listen to my cat," Sophie smirked. "Right now, I see that the Longbottom family is better than the Malfoy family." Neville blushed with pleasure and Malfoy's expression turned ugly.

"We'll see who's laughing when your brother hangs out with me," he said and left with his morons.

"Did you mean what you said?" Neville asked.

"Of course I did, I don't usually trust and warm to people straight away but you and Hermione seem really nice!" Sophie smiled warmly, Neville's smile widened and Hermione hugged her with pleasure.

"Ron seems nice too, I'm glad my brother has made a friend," Sophie added when Hermione let her go. They decided to change into their robes then, as the sun was starting to set, and Sophie patted down her robes with a feeling of joy.

Suddenly, they heard screams and Sophie laughed for the first time in ages as she saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle running up the corridor, screaming like little kids. Rolling her eyes, Hermione headed towards Harry and Ron's compartment, Neville stayed behind and Sophie followed.

"What _has_been going on?" Hermione said as she opened the compartment door, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No — I don't believe it — he's gone back to sleep."

And so he had.

"You've met Malfoy before?"

Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione and Sophie. "Can we help you with something?" Sophie huffed and Hermione went on talking.

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right — we only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Sophie, smiling at her twin.

"And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?" Hermione just had to add.

Ron glared at her as she left and Sophie decided to stay. Harry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.

He and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes, while Sophie covered her eyes for them. Ron's were a bit short for him, you could see his sneakers underneath them.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Harry and Sophie's stomachs lurched with nerves and Ron, they saw, looked pale under his freckles. They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry, Sophie?"

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville sniffed once or twice and Sophie walked next to him.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione, while Sophie sat with three other girls.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then — FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oi, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands and Sophie smiled.

"See, I told you he'd turn up!" she said and he grinned. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

**Mana: Done! Did you like that little insight with Sophie, Hermione and Neville?**

**Hermione: I'm glad Sophie and I are friends!**

**Sophie: Me too!**

**Harry: We've gotta go now**

**Ron: Bye!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Mana: I'm on a roll!**

**Hermione: I know!**

**Sophie: Now the Sorting...**

**Ron: NOT SLYTHERIN!**

**Sophie: RON SHUT UP!**

**Harry: Ha ha mate, she never yells**

**Ron: Bloody hell...**

**Hermione: Language!**

**Ron: Hermione!**

**Sophie: Oh just kiss and get it over with already!**

**Harry: ...**

**Ron: WHAT?**

**Hermione: (at same time as Ron) WHAT?**

**Mana: -.- I don't own Harry Potter, only OCs...**

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry and Sophie could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points.

At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose.

Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair and Sophie smirked.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron, while Sophie chatted to Hermione about all the spells they might need.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know any magic yet —what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. Sophie rolled her eyes and whacked her brother on the head.

"Obviously they wouldn't test us with magic, we only just got here!" she hissed, only just realising that.

He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need.

Harry tried hard not to listen to her. He'd never been more nervous, never, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he'd somehow turned his teacher's wig blue. Sophie however had managed to turn her teacher's hair bright pink and his skin purple, which she hadn't been able to explain.

He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him and his sister to their doom. He could tell that Sophie was just as worried as him but was just putting on an uncaring mask.

Then something happened that made them jump about a foot in the air — several people behind them screamed.

"What the —?"

He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing.

What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him, while Sophie got into line with Hermione and Neville, trying hard not to faint, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

The twins had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place.

It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry and Sophie looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. They heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_."

"Damn, I haven't got that book," Sophie muttered and Harry smiled and shook his head.

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

They quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.

_Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it_, Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing— noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he and Sophie stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry and Sophie. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching.

"I know," his sister whispered.

The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; the twins didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment.

If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him, Harry reckoned. Sophie however was fairly certain that she would make it into Ravenclaw.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause —

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry and Sophie's imaginations, after all they'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.

Harry was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. Sophie however hadn't had an issue with that, she'd usually just sit and read.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry and Sophie noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!" Sophie crossed her fingers for her new friend.

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned and Sophie cheered loudly, whacking Ron on the head once she had quietened down.

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he and Sophie weren't chosen at all? What if they just sat there with the hat over their eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off their heads and said there had obviously been a mistake and they'd better get back on the train?

"You're an idiot," Sophie said, reading his thoughts again.

When Neville Longbottom was called, he fell over on his way to the stool.

The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Sophie cheered loudly for her friend and Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Sophie rolled her eyes.

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon"…, "Nott"…, "Parkinson"…, then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"…, then "Perks, Sally-Anne"…, and then, at last —

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"_Potter_, did she say?"

"_The_Harry Potter?"

"Yes, the Harry Potter," Sophie muttered to herself, annoyed at them and worried for her brother. After a few minutes-

"GRYFFINDOR!" Sophie cheered until her throat was sore and her brother walked to the Gryffindor table, looking pleased and a little sick.

"Potter, Sophie!"

More murmuring broke out and people were trying to look at her. As she walked up, she caught the eye of a teacher and she saw a startled look.

_Huh?_ The look was almost a stunned look of recognition.

She sat down and put the hat on.

"Hmm, more difficult than your brother," a small voice said in her ear. "Cunning, a real thirst for knowledge, even more than Harry I see. Intelligent, you would do really well in Ravenclaw. I might even put you there!"

Sophie grew a bit nervous then. Who did she know who was in Ravenclaw?

"Your loyalty isn't too good, except to people you really like. I can't see you in Hufflepuff. Nor Slytherin, although you would be great there, it isn't the right house for you. You are brave, yes, and you have a rebellious streak to you. Now to decide. Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?"

_I don't know anyone in Ravenclaw!_Sophie thought.

"So you want to be with your friends? You'd do better in Ravenclaw, although I can see you doing well in Gryffindor. Miss Granger could have gone to Ravenclaw but I chose Gryffindor. What house do you want?"

And that for Sophie was the ultimate question. She couldn't stand to be apart from her brother, he was her best, best friend, the only friend she had had throughout her life.

_Gryffindor_she thought. _Put me in Gryffindor._

"Very well then...GRYFFINDOR!" The noise in the hall was deafening. Gryffindor, ecstatic at having gained both the famous Potter twins, were yelling themselves hoarse, while Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were applauding politely and Slytherin were just sitting there. Sophie sat next to Hermione and Percy Weasley, who shook her hand.

"I can't wait for lessons!" she said and Percy smiled at her.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," joined Harry and Sophie at the Gryffindor table.

"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now.

Harry and Sophie crossed their fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry and Sophie clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to Harry.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago. Sophie's stomach rumbled loudly and she grinned.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he — a bit mad?" he asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open.

The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Dursleys had never exactly starved the twins, but they'd never been allowed to eat as much as they liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry and Sophie really wanted, even if It made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. Sophie meanwhile just got a bit of everything, even the humbugs and dug in. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you —?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it.

I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would _prefer_you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"_Nearly_Headless? How can you be _nearly_headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like _this_," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces,

Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So — new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry and Sophie looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood.

He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements. Sophie looked especially pleased.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart and Sophie to an apple pie, strawberries and ice cream, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages.

My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned — but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy.

And you should have seen their faces when I got in here — they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley, Hermione and his sister were talking about lessons

("I _do_hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration,you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult —"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing — " "I can't wait for Potions, it sounds really interesting).

Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry and Sophie's foreheads.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head, while Sophie massaged her forehead and grimaced in pain.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing."

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look — a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to — everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.

"He seemed to like me," Sophie murmured and Harry looked disbelievingly at her.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered.

I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. Sophie stared at them and they grinned at her.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy.

"Harry, I think he is," Sophie said.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere — the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least." Sophie rolled her eyes.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry and Sophie noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. Sophie felt that way too. They were too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries.

They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves — show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Ooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pyjamas and fell into bed.

"Goodnight," Sophie murmured sleepily to Hermione, who said goodnight back. She had a weird dream that night and she assumed that it was her brother's.

He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it — then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold — there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking. As did Sophie, whose last thought before she was out again was that her brother had the weirdest dreams.

The next morning, neither of them remembered it.

**Mana: Done! Oh yeah and I'm focusing more on Sophie here because you guys know about Harry!**

**Sophie: Don't you have to get off?**

**Mana: Yeah I do, bye!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Mana: So sorry that I haven't updated, I've been busy with my Fictionpress account!**

**Sophie: And that's more important than us, why?**

**Ron: I feel so wanted...**

**Hermione: (sighs) Oh Ronald...**

**Harry: Mana doesn't own me, my friends or my sister!**

**Mana: Now here's this chapter!**

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"The girl with the auburn hair?"

"Did you see their faces?"

"Did you see their scar?"

Whispers followed Harry and Sophie from the moment they left their dormitories the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at them, or doubled back to pass them in the corridors again, staring.

The twins wished they wouldn't, because Harry was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes, while Sophie was trying to read and walk at the same time, and it wasn't the easiest thing to do when people were in front of you all the time.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot.

The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Harry was sure the coats of armour could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor.

He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing. Sophie was with Hermione, so she didn't know until Harry told her, to which she and Hermione smirked.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-coloured creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later.

Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as the twins quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets.

Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. When he got to Sophie's, he fainted.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross, while Sophie smirked at him. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time.

After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione and Sophie had made any difference to their matches; Professor McGonagall showed the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gave the girls a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry and Sophie were very relieved to find out that they weren't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like them, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. Sophie grinned and patted them on the back, mockingly congratulating them.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Sophie at once.

"Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favours them — we'll be able to see if it's true," Ron added.

"Wish McGonagall favoured us," said Harry.

Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before, which Sophie had already finished with Hermione..

Just then, the mail arrived. Harry and Sophie had gotten used to this by now, but it had given them a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the Owlery with the other school owls or going to the Gryffindor girl's dormitory to play with Charm.

This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate.

Harry tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

_Dear Harry,_

_I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three with your sister?_

_I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig._

_Hagrid_

Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled _Yes, please, see you later_on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again.

It was lucky that Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far. The opposite had happened with Sophie.

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry — he _hated_him. What he couldn't understand, however, was why Snape seemed to like Sophie so much. His sister was stumped too. Why would one of her favourite teachers be so horrible to her brother?

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new—_celebrity_."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

He paused at Sophie's name and looked at her. Again, Sophie caught a flash of recognition in his eyes but this time she saw pain as well.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead, while Sophie had crossed her arms angrily.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_Powdered root of what to an infusion of what_? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione and Sophie's hands had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand and turned to Sophie.

"Do you know. Miss Potter?"

"The Draught of Living Death," Sophie answered confidently, having picked up some extra books and come across the recipe.

"One point to Gryffindor." Sophie raised an eyebrow, while the Slytherins opened their mouths in surprise. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat and Sophie raised her hand again, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_?

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand and looked at Harry's sister again.

"The stomach of a goat, sir," Sophie said.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. Sophie pulled her down into her seat.

"I don't know," Harry said. "But my sister does, why don't you ask her again?"

People laughed and Snape said "If your sister can answer me correctly, I don't see why you can't. Miss Potter?" He turned to Sophie.

"They're the same plant, which go by the name of aconite," Sophie said and Snape looked impressed.

"Five points to Gryffindor," Snape said. "Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy and Sophie, who he seemed to like.

He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs and the flawless light green of Sophie's potion when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills?

Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

"But Professor, Harry was concentrating on his own potion!" Sophie said to Snape, who looked at her. For a moment, Harry was afraid that Sophie would be given detention but Snape simply said "Very well, I'll let it slide this time." Sophie looked at Harry with relief, while Ron's mouth was open.

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost a point for Gryffindor in his very first week—_why_did Snape hate him so much?

"Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Although I don't know how you did that with him, Sophie. He must really like you. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you two?"

At five to three they left the castle (Sophie asking Hermione to organise her notes for her) and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "_Back_, Fang —_back_."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "_Back_, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles.

_Way to make him feel better_Sophie thought. _He doesn't want to be compared to his siblings; he wants to be his own person!_

"I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Harry, Sophie and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons.

Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes, while Sophie took a real liking to him and patted him. Charm meowed cautiously from within her robes and Fang looked at them, interested.

They were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her — Filch puts her up to it."

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really _hate_me. And he liked my sister enough to not take a point off! How does that work?"

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he hate yeh?"

Yet Harry couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot — great with animals."

Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose, while Sophie knew that he had. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the _Daily Prophet_:

_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

"_But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon._

Harry remembered Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.

"Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break in happened on our birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

"What?" Sophie hissed, looking at the paper.

There was no doubt about it; Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Sophie read the story for herself. _The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day._Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for? Sophie was starting to piece things together...

As Harry, Sophie and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Harry thought that none of the lessons he'd had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Harry?

_Yep_Sophie said in his mind and he grunted.

"Sophie, stop it!" he said and she grinned cheekily.

"What is she doing?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Oh, we have a telepathic connection," Sophie explained.

"Which she uses to annoy me!" Harry said, pointing to his sister. Ron stared at the both of them.

"Bloody hell," he finally said.


	8. Chapter 8

**Mana: Man, I just wanna keep going!**

**Ron: Yay, more of us!**

**Hermione: You are so obnoxious, Ron!**

**Sophie: (smirks)**

**Harry: Do I have to do the disclaimer ALL the time!**

**Mana: Yep!**

**Harry: Oh fine! Look at other chapters, disclaimers are there!**

**Mana: That's not a proper disclaimer!**

**Harry: It's still a disclaimer!**

**Sophie: -.- Here's the story...**

Harry and Sophie had never believed they would meet a boy they hated more than Dudley, but that was before they met Draco Malfoy. Still, first year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much.

Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday — and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

"I'd make a fool of myself anyway, I'm scared of heights," Sophie added, just as darkly.

Harry had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. Sophie was constantly seen whacking him around the head, while he softened very slightly just looking at her.

He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly and Sophie grew sick of it.

Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly.

Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move. Sophie had smirked when he told her this and said that Ron needed to be at least a fourth year to learn how to do that.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry felt she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground. Sophie had cuffed him for his thoughts.

Hermione was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book — not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called _Quidditch Through the Ages_, until Sophie told her that no one was listening except for Neville and herself.

Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later and Sophie was terrified at the thought of being up high, while Harry tried to comfort her. The arrival of the mail put a stop to her thoughts.

Neither Harry nor Sophie had had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things — this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red — oh…" His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "… you've forgotten something…"

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten and Sophie and Hermione were saying that it didn't seem very reliable as it didn't tell you what you'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him, while Sophie smirked at him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, Sophie and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry and Sophie had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. They only served to make Sophie more nervous.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did.

Hermione and Sophie's had both simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Harry; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry, Sophie and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle — three — two —"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle — twelve feet — twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and —

WHAM — a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap.

His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Sophie ran towards Neville to see if he was alright and Madam Hooch followed, bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy — it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I and this girl take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dears."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch and Sophie, who had her arm around him.

"Are you alright Neville?" Sophie asked.

"I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth.

"It's fine, I probably would have done the same if I was on a broomstick, I'm scared of heights," she said and Neville looked slightly happier.

Madam Pomfrey laid Neville onto a bed while she got her wand and shooed Sophie from the hospital wing. With nothing to do, as she had told Madam Hooch that she was afraid of heights and had been excused from flying, she made her way up to Gryffindor Tower to start on her homework.

"HARRY POTTER!" She heard McGonagall's voice and wondered what the hell her brother had done to make McGonagall that mad.

"Caput Draconis," she said wearily to the Fat Lady and walked up to the girl's dormitory, where she pulled out some homework.

It was dinnertime and Sophie was walking down with Hermione, when she heard Malfoy's voice.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only — no contact.

What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.

"What is a wizard's duel?" said Harry. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry's face, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.

"Excuse me."

They both looked up. It was Hermione and Sophie.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.

"We couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying —"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered.

"— and you _mustn't_go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Harry, please don't do this!" Sophie pleaded.

"Good-bye," said Ron and Sophie smacked him.

"I guess I'll have to come, you two don't know _any_spells!" Sophie said, annoyed, and hurried off with Hermione.

'Bloody hell!" he exclaimed when Sophie had left.

All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake much later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn't back from the hospital wing). Ron had spent all evening giving him advice such as "If he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them."

There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris, and Harry felt he was pushing his luck, breaking another school rule today. On the other hand, Malfoy's sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness — this was his big chance to beat Malfoy face-to-face. He couldn't miss it.

"Half-past eleven," Ron muttered at last, "we'd better go."

They pulled on their bathrobes, picked up their wands, and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room, where Sophie was waiting, a scowl on her face. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."

A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.

"_You!_" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy — he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Harry couldn't believe anyone could be so interfering.

"Come on," he said to Ron. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.

"Hermione, there is no stopping him once he's changed his mind," Sophie said apologetically. "That's why I'm going with him, to keep him out of trouble." She hurried after her brother and his best mate.

Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Sophie through the portrait hole, hissing at the boys like an angry goose.

"Don't you _care_about Gryffindor, do you _only_care about yourselves, _I_don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points Sophie and I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells!"

"Go away."

"Well, we warned you, you just remember what we said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so —" Sophie began.

But what they were, they didn't find out. Hermione and Sophie had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and they were locked out of Gryffindor tower.

"Now what are we going to do?" Hermione asked shrilly.

"That's your problem," said Ron. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with the boys and girl.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"You are _not_."

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"I will," Sophie said.

"You've both got some nerve —" said Ron loudly.

"Shut up, the three of you!" said Harry sharply. "I heard something."

It was a sort of snuffling.

"Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.

It wasn't Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.

"Neville!" Sophie said delightedly and hugged him happily.

"Thank goodness you found me!" Neville said in relief as Sophie helped him up. "I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere," Ron said.

"How's your arm?" said Harry.

"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good — well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later —"

"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet, "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione, Sophie and Neville.

"If any of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and at Ron to not talk to his sister like that and beckoned them all forward.

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Harry and Sophie expected to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet.

The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once but Sophie already had hers out.

The minutes crept by.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry and Sophie had only just raised their wands when they heard someone speak — and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other four to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run he tripped, grabbed Sophie around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor. The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following — they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry and Sophie competing for the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going — they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead, while his sister leaned against him. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

"We—_told_—you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest.

"Yeah—we—told—you," Sophie coughed.

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible."

"Duh," Sophie said, rolling her eyes.

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you — Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

Harry thought she was probably right, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Sophie smirked at him and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "_Boys_."

"Let's go," she said out loud.

It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves — please — you'll get us thrown out," Harry pleaded.

Peeves cackled.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please,"Sophie said desperately.

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves. This was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door — and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.

"Hermione, use the Alohomora charm! I can't reach!" Sophie gasped, handing Hermione her wand..

"Move over," Hermione snarled to Harry and Ron.

She grabbed Sophie's wand from her, tapped the lock, and whispered, "_Alohomora_!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open — they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please.'"

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now _where did they go_?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

"All right —_please_."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!"

And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage. Sophie smirked at the clever use of words with Peeves.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered.

"Duh," his sister muttered back.

"I think we'll be okay — get _off_, Neville!"

For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's bathrobe for the last minute. "_What_?"

Harry turned around — and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare — this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Sophie knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Harry groped for the doorknob — between Filch and death, he'd take Filch.

They fell backward — Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared — all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

"Never mind that — pig snout, pig snout," panted Sophie, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again. "You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, _not_the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something," Sophie growled.

She and Hermione stood up, giving them identical glares.

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed — or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed," Hermione said and Sophie followed her, giving her brother one last glare.

Ron stared after Hermione, his mouth open.

"No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you."

But Hermione and Sophie had given Harry something else to think about as he climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something… What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide — except perhaps Hogwarts.

It looked as though Harry had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was. Sophie however had figured it out ages ago.

**Mana: Doooone!**

**Ron: Yay!**

**Hermione: What are you, a little girl?**

**Ginny: Hey, I resent that!**

**Harry: o.o**

**Ginny: HI HARRY POTTER!**

**Harry: O.O'**

**Sophie: (smirks) Run, dear brother!**

**Neville: Um bye!**

**Sophie: When did you come in?**

**Neville: Two minutes ago**

**Sophie: (smiles)**

**Hermione: Cya!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Mana: Thanks so much to all the people who favourite, story alert and review this story!**

**Hermione: Yeah, we appreciate it!**

**Sophie: I don't get why people love this story so much...**

**Ron: It's me, I'm extremely famous**

**Hermione: (whacks Ron)**

**Ron: Ow!**

**Harry: Tough luck mate!**

**Sophie: Nah it's me, people love reading about Harry Potter's twin sister**

**Mana: (looks at Harry)**

**Harry: Oh no, I am NOT doing it!**

**Mana: Harry, you know it's your job!**

**Ginny: HI HARRY!**

**Harry: -.- Why me...**

**Fred: Fine, we'll do it.**

**George: Mana doesn't own us. Happy now?**

**Mana: Totally! You guys are AWESOME!**

**Fred: Nice to know-**

**George: -that we're so-**

**Fred: -appreciated!**

**Mana: O Great and Wise Pranksters, I beg of you, take me on as your apprentice!**

**Fred: Why of-**

**George: -course dear Mana!**

**Mana: Yay!**

**Neville: Here's chapter 9!**

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry, Sophie and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. He was surprised to see Sophie because he had suspected that she would go and keep her brother out of trouble.

Indeed, by the next morning Harry and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one. Sophie however refused to speak to Ron and shot glares at Harry, which made him uncomfortable because he and his sister had always been on good terms with each other.

In the meantime, Harry filled Ron in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

"Or both," said Harry. Sophie was passing and she gave a "Duh!" then walked off.

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again.

Hermione was now following Sophie's example and refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus.

All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor.

They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE._

_It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session._

_Professor McGonagall_

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron to read.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even _touched_one."

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

Ron couldn't resist it.

"It's not any old broomstick," he said. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, it is," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

Harry and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team…"

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand. Sophie didn't care about her brother's broomstick; she was just annoyed at them for blindly believing that Malfoy would show up to the duel and going along without a second thought.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air. Sophie shot them death glares, which Ron ignored but made Harry look at Hermione's back apologetically.

Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch field where he'd be learning to play that night.

He bolted his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating, and then rushed upstairs with Ron to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread.

Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

Sophie walked in to see what they were up to and caught them staring at it. She couldn't help herself, she just had to forgive them.

"Hey Harry, can I have a go later?" she asked. "It might help with my fear of heights."

"Sure," her brother smiled and the twins hugged.

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry left the castle with Sophie and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. They had never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry and Sophie of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.

Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling — he swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his lightest touch. Sophie watched in awe.

"Hey, Potter, come down!"

Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Harry landed next to him.

"Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant… you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

"Right," said Wood. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," Harry repeated and Sophie nodded as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.

"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Wood. "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Harry recited.

"So — that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?" Sophie said.

"What's basketball?" said Wood curiously.

"Never mind," said Harry quickly for his sister.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper — I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Sophie, who was determined to remember it all. Her brother wasn't really known for his memory, so he'd be able to easily get the information from her. Meaning that he'd probably get the same marks in exams because they could access each other's minds.

"And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" Harry asked, pointing at the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now," said Wood. "Take this."

He handed Harry and Sophie a small club each, a bit like a short baseball bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Wood said. "These two are the Bludgers."

He showed them two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

"Stand back," Wood warned Harry. He bent down and freed the Bludgers.

At once, the black balls rose high in the air and then one pelted straight at Harry's face, while the other went for Sophie's chest. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air—it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

"See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. It was Sophie's turn now. She whacked the Bludger really hard and it went flying off, where no one could see it.

"Wow, you could outdo the Weasley twins if you tried," he said, wrestling the second Bludger as it came for him. Sophie grinned like a maniac and Harry gulped. His sister really was scary when she wanted to be.

"The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team—the Weasley twins are ours—it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So—think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Sophie reeled off and Harry looked at her in surprise. How on earth did she manage to remember all that?

"Very good," said Wood.

"Er—have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand. Sophie smirked at her brother's ability to fail at sounding offhand.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers—"

"—unless they crack my head open."

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers — I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.

"_This_," said Wood, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much.

"A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages — I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep.

"Well, that's it any questions?"

Harry shook his head. He finally understood what he had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."

He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch.

Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on.

"That Quidditch Cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons." He waved goodbye and Sophie nervously mounted her brother's Nimbus 2000.

"You'll be fine, Soph," he said encouragingly and she smiled. She kicked off and felt a sudden rush of familiarity, like she belonged up there.

"That's how I felt!" Harry called up, reading her feelings. She did some loops and felt ecstatic as she realised: _she wasn't scared of heights anymore!_Eventually, she came down and Harry happily suggested that she try out for the Quidditch team when she got the chance, a suggestion that she was happy to follow up with.

Perhaps it was because they were now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week (in Harry's case) on top of all their homework, but Harry and Sophie could hardly believe it when they realised that they'd already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had.

Their lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom.

Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Seamus Finnigan (which was a relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). Sophie was partnered with Neville and they were both happy.

Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to either of the boys since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too — never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest." Sophie and Hermione shared smirks.

It was very difficult. Harry and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it — Harry had to put it out with his hat.

Sophie had managed to lift her feather on her first go and now she was guiding Neville's wrist as he swished and flicked.

Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Harry and Sophie heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly."

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face — and was startled to see that she was in tears.

"I think she heard you."

"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends." He went flying as Sophie whacked him around the head so hard that he saw stars.

"Ronald Weasley, you are the most insensitive, nasty prick I have _ever_had the misfortune to meet!" Sophie snapped, tears in her eyes for her friend. "I can't believe I chose to give you a chance!" She stormed off and Harry grimaced.

"You blew it mate, she won't trust you for a long time," he said. "Possibly never again." Ron winced; Sophie Lily Potter was the scariest person he had ever met and he grew up with the twins, who had made him scared of spiders.

Both Hermione and Sophie didn't turn up for the next class and weren't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and Sophie was comforting her. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione and Sophie out of their minds.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Harry was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy was in his element.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm.

"I've just thought — Hermione and Sophie."

"What about them?"

"They don't know about the troll."

Ron bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."

Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin.

Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me."

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Ron held up his hand.

"Can you smell something?"

Harry sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.

And then they heard it — a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed — at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.

"The key's in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Ron nervously.

They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it.

"Yes!"

Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop—two high, petrified screams—and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up.

"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.

"It's the girls' bathroom!" Harry gasped.

"Hermione and Sophie!" they said together.

It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have?

Wheeling around, they sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Harry pulled the door open and they ran inside.

Hermione was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint, while Sophie, pale and wide-eyed, was fumbling with her wand. The troll was advancing on them, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Oi, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

"Come on, run, run!" Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror. Sophie tried to help her brother but Hermione still refused to move. Sophie would've used her wand but she had forgotten all the spells she knew.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Sophie pulled him out of the way but the troll grabbed her collar and lifted her up. She screamed in terror and Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped – it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club. Sophie kicked the troll's nose, causing Harry's wand to go in further and the troll clutched his nose, dropping her in the process.

Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand—not knowing what he was going to do, he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over — and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done and Sophie was hugging Hermione with fright. Harry had never seen his sister so scared but, he had to admit, he had felt exactly the same.

It was Hermione who spoke first.

"Is it — dead?"

"I don't think so," said Harry. "I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.

"Urgh — troll boogers." He wiped it on the troll's trousers and Sophie turned a pale green.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Sophie rolled her eyes at his uselessness.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry and Sophie had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white.

Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry's mind and Sophie snorted with amusement telepathically.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look but Sophie a softer look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall — they were looking for us."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.

"I went looking for the troll because I — I thought I could deal with it on my own — you know, because I've read all about them."

"And I went to help her, because she was my friend," Sophie said in an equally small voice.

Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger and Sophie Potter, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"If they hadn't found us, we'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose, Sophie kicked it and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish us off when they arrived."

Harry and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them and Sophie smirked faintly, so they knew that they had failed miserably.

"Well — in that case…" said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of them, "Miss Granger, Miss Potter, you foolish girls, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll by yourselves?"

Hermione and Sophie hung their heads. Harry was speechless. Hermione and his sister were the last people to do anything against the rules, and here they were, pretending they had, to get the boys out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

"Miss Granger and Miss Potter, five points each will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left and Sophie was about to follow when Snape suddenly said "Miss Potter, five points to Gryffindor for loyalty to your friend." Sophie gaped and Harry and Ron nearly fainted with shock. Sophie closed her mouth and hurried after Hermione.

"What held you up?" Hermione asked her friend as Sophie caught up.

"Snape gave me five points for loyalty to my friend," Sophie explained and Hermione stared at her.

"Pig snout," Hermione said to the Fat Lady.

The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione and Sophie, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for Harry and Ron. The boys appeared in the common room and there was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates.

But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became Harry and Ron's friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them. Although Sophie still didn't like Ron. Hermione marvelled at the ability she had to scare Ron whenever she glared at him and make him feel uncomfortable with a glance.


	10. Chapter 10

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship.

Hardly anyone had seen Harry play (except Sophie) because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret and Sophie had agreed with that plan. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry didn't know which was worse — people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress. Sophie told him the second one was worse and he gave her a "duh" look.

It was really lucky that Harry now had Hermione as a friend and that Sophie was talking to him again. He didn't know how he'd have gotten through all his homework without the girls, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making them do. She had also lent him Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read. Sophie even liked it and Harry had a feeling that his sister was growing to love Quidditch.

Harry and Sophie learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them (Sophie didn't really like that); that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

Hermione and Sophie had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry and Ron had saved them from the mountain troll, and they were much nicer for it.

The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the four of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and Hermione had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were still a little cold, so Sophie conjured up her own flames as well and they were bright green, something that disturbed Ron greatly.

"Did the hat want to put you in Slytherin?" he asked tactlessly and Sophie had whacked him around the head, much to Hermione's pleasure.

They were standing with their backs to the flames, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry and Sophie noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron, Sophie and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed.

Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Sophie muttered angrily as one of her favourite teachers limped away. She hated it when people abused their power like that and kept wondering why he hated Harry so much.

"Wonder what's wrong with his leg?" Harry said.

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, Sophie and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them, while Sophie was writing her Potions essay and checking her brother's Transfiguration homework at the same time (something that constantly amazed Harry: how could his sister multi-task like that?). The girls would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking them to read it through, the boys got the right answers anyway.

Harry felt restless. He wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back, to take his mind off his nerves about tomorrow. Why should he be afraid of Snape?

Getting up, he told Ron and Hermione he was going to ask Snape if he could have it.

"Better you than me," they said together, but Harry had an idea that Snape wouldn't refuse if there were other teachers listening.

"He'll keep it anyway!" Sophie sung smugly, sounding like she had when Harry had that plan to sneak the letters and stepped on Uncle Vernon's face. Hermione looked confused and Harry told her about their telepathic connection.

'That's interesting: I haven't heard of anyone who had your ability naturally!" she said, fascinated. Harry then said that he had to get going and set off.

"Sophie can you check my Transfiguration homework?" Ron asked and she glared at him.

"You still don't like me much, do you?" She shook her head but smiled.

"You need to do it yourself, you know that you'll get all the right answers if I check it," Sophie smirked and Ron gaped at her, causing Hermione to laugh.

"Can you check my Potions essay? I need a second opinion," Hermione said and Sophie smiled sweetly.

"Of course Hermione," she said and Ron gasped. "And can you check my History of Magic homework? You're the only other one who can actually listen to Professor Binns."

"Or course Sophie," Hermione smiled and they exchanged parchment. After reading through Hermione's homework, Sophie walked over to Neville and offered to help him with his homework, an offer that he gladly accepted.

"Where's Sophie?" Harry wondered.

"Over there." Hermione pointed at the auburn haired girl, who was helping Neville. He was clearly enjoying it and she looked questioningly at Harry, who waved her over. She said bye to Neville and went up to her brother.

"Did you get it?" she asked. "What's the matter?"

In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen.

"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him — he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Hermione and Sophie's eyes were wide.

"No — he wouldn't," Hermione said.

"I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe," Sophie added.

"Honestly, you two, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

Harry went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. Neville was snoring loudly, but Harry couldn't sleep. He tried to empty his mind — he needed to sleep, he had to, he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours – but the expression on Snape's face when Harry had seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.

_Go to sleep_Sophie's voice said.

_I'm trying!_he thought back.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast," Sophie said, giving her brother an encouraging hug and eating some bacon.

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

Harry felt terrible. In an hour's time he'd be walking onto the field. Sophie felt terrible too, since she could feel her brother's emotions.

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile sauce on his sausages. Sophie whacked him and the sauce squirted into some Gryffindor's face.

"Hey!" Seamus exclaimed and Sophie glared.

"Lovely, make Harry even more nervous!" she snapped and Seamus realised that he had said the wrong thing.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron, Sophie and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colours. Sophie, who was also a good artist, had drawn a large snake in the lion's mouth and done the same charm that Hermione had done. Malfoy glared at her when he saw it and she smirked at him.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).

Wood cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay, men," he said.

"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."

"The big one," said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry, "we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her.

Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Sophie thought the same thing from the stands.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver, even more so when he saw his sister waving at him.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—" Sophie laughed at the commentary coming from up in the teacher's tower.

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve — back to Johnson and — no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes — Flint flying like an eagle up there — he's going to sc— no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle — that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and — OUCH — that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger — Quaffle taken by the Slytherins — that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger — sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which — nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes — she's really flying — dodges a speeding Bludger — the goal posts are ahead — come on, now, Angelina — Keeper Bletchley dives — misses — GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers (especially Sophie's) filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Ron and Sophie squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them and Sophie had a disgusted look on her face at having to squeeze up to Ron and he smirked at her, earning himself a smack.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry. Sophie agreed with Hagrid.

Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.

"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment — was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch — all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch. Harry was faster than Higgs—he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead — he put on an extra spurt of speed—Sophie crossed her fingers—

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below—Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors and Sophie clenched her fists, growling with rage.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously.

"In football you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!" Sophie explained, having been forced to watch a football game with her uncle. She had hated anything to do with football since.

"But this isn't football, Dean," Ron reminded him.

Hagrid and Sophie, however, were on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air." Sophie fiercely agreed with her big friend.

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating —"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul…" Sophie smirked; he had guts talking like that in front of McGonagall.

"Jordan, I'm warning you—"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch.

For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that.

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off.

But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal-posts — he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time-out — and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession — Flint with the Quaffle — passes Spinnet — passes Bell — hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose — only joking, Professor — Slytherins score — A no…"

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went. Sophie had suddenly noticed her brother and was screaming but no one heard her. She moved Hagrid's binoculars suddenly to stare at Harry.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled to Sophie. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom… but he can't have…"

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. Sophie had tears in her eyes and her fingers had gone white from being crossed too hard. Harry was now dangling from his broom, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic — no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape — look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something — jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me," Sophie whispered determinedly.

Before Ron or Hermione could say another word, Sophie had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell.

Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, Sophie," Ron muttered desperately.

Sophie had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front.

Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright green flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row — Snape would never know what had happened. Sophie couldn't believe that Snape, one of her favourite teachers, would try and kill her brother.

It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.

Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick — he hit the field on all fours — coughed — and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference — Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results — Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though.

He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron, Sophie and Hermione.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.

"Fluffy?" Sophie exclaimed incredulously.

"Yeah — he's mine — bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year — I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the —"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione and Sophie at the same time.

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed the girls' minds about Snape.

"We know a jinx when we see one, Hagrid, we've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, we saw him!" Hermione said and Sophie nodded.

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh — yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel—" Sophie groaned inwardly. Now her brother wouldn't give up until he knew who Nicolas Flamel was.

"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

**Ok, I've put up another poll on my profile, which will slightly influence parts of the stories. It's about who Sophie should date and what year. Please vote: it'll stay up until this story's version of the Goblet of Fire!**


	11. Chapter 11

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins (and surprisingly Sophie, who had become their secret apprentice) were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban.

The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. No one could wait for the holidays to start.

While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking over at Harry and Sophie as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, and Sophie, who was stirring her blood red potion, ignored them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting the twins about having no proper family.

It was true that Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Harry had signed up at once. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas he'd ever had. Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie.

Sophie was going to stay with Neville for one half of the Christmas holidays and with Hermione for the second half, as both had asked her to stay with them. Sophie felt a little weird at spending her first Christmas without her brother but she knew he'd have a good time. Neville told her that his grandmother had been really happy with him for finding a good friend and the both of them had a feeling that she'd be even happier and prouder when she found out that it was one of the Potter twins.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Sophie growled softly and Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," protested Sophie. "Malfoy was insulting his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Miss Potter," said Snape silkily. "Be grateful that I'm not taking any points off this time. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking. Harry, Ron and Hermione meanwhile were gaping at Sophie's ability to wrap Snape around her little finger.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him —"

"I hate them both," said Harry, "Malfoy and Snape." Sophie sighed sadly. She had forgiven Snape for nearly killing her brother, although she didn't know why she couldn't hold a grudge against him. Probably because she was one of his favourites for some unknown reason.

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the four of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree — put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Sophie.

"And that reminds me — Harry, Ron, Sophie, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library," Hermione added and Sophie nodded.

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree. Sophie walked over and asked him to teach her that charm and soon she had golden bubbles coming out of her wand too.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall as Harry dragged his golden bubble covered twin out. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here—I've told yeh—drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Sophie.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added and his sister snorted.

"We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere—just give us a hint—I know I've read his name somewhere," she said.

"I'm sayin' nothin', said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book.

He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles that she and Sophie had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random.

Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, boy?"

"Nothing," said Harry.

Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.

"You'd better get out, then. Go on — out!"

Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, Ron, Sophie and Hermione had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to.

Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.

Five minutes later, Ron, Sophie and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while we're away, won't you?" said Hermione.

"And send us an owl if you find anything," Sophie added.

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione and Sophie grinned.

Soon, the holidays had started and Sophie said bye to her brother (and Ron, yes) as Neville led her out to the coaches.

"I must say, I'm quite eager to meet your grandmother," Sophie said and Neville laughed.

"She'd be more eager to meet you if she knew who you were," he said.

"You haven't told her who I am?"

"If she knew, she'd probably react like everyone else," Hermione said, hopping into the coach.

"No, she'd probably just say that I'm not good enough to be your friend," Neville said sadly and Sophie put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"How did you introduce me in your letters?" Sophie asked.

"I just wrote that I had two new friends and that their names were Sophie and Hermione," he replied. "I didn't mention your last name."

"Come on, we'll miss the train!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing to the Hogwarts Express. They got out of the coach and boarded the train, finding an empty compartment.

"Merry Christmas!" Dean said to the three of them as he was passing by.

"Merry Christmas Dean!" Neville replied and the girls waved. To get into the Christmas spirit (and at request from Neville and Hermione), Sophie decorated the whole compartment with golden bubbles, which had apparently become her signature charm.

When the food train came by, Neville bought them all Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans, despite the girls' protests.

"Ergh, jelly!" Sophie said when she ate a red bean. Earning herself weird glances, she elaborated. 'I hate jelly, it's disgusting!"

Lots of sweets later, the train pulled into King's Cross Station and the three of them got off with their trunks and pets. Charm was currently not speaking to Sophie on account of being stuffed into her carrier and Neville said that Charm was like Sophie, earning himself a smack.

"Bye Hermione!" Sophie called as Hermione caught sight of her parents.

"See you in a couple of weeks!" she called back and disappeared with Mr and Mrs Granger.

"Neville!" Sophie heard a woman's voice and turned to see an old lady wearing a green dress, a moth-eaten fox fur and a stuffed vulture hat. She was also carrying a red handbag,

"Hi Grandma," he said and Mrs Longbottom looked down at Sophie.

"This must be the Sophie you told me about!" she said and Sophie nodded, a little intimidated by the old lady.

"Um yes, I'm Sophie."

"What's your last name?" Mrs Longbottom asked. "Neville never did get around to telling me. He can be forgetful sometimes, that boy." Neville blushed a light pink.

"No, he didn't forget to tell you," Sophie said. "He just wanted to wait until I was with him." She lifted her fringe and said "My last name is Potter."

"A Potter, eh?" Mrs Longbottom said, shaking Sophie's hand warmly. "I would have guessed eventually, you look just like your mother. I knew her well."

"You did?" Sophie said, gazing at Mrs Longbottom in wonder.

'A fine woman she was and I have a feeling that you'll be just like her." Sophie blushed a deep crimson. That was the best compliment anyone had ever given her!

"Grandma, can we go now?" Neville asked and the two eleven year olds grasped Mrs Longbottom's arms. She turned on the spot and Sophie gasped as she felt her chest being constricted and her head being squashed.

"What...was...that?" she gasped, collapsing onto a green lawn.

"Oh, I forgot that Sophie hadn't experienced Side-Along Apparition before," Neville said, looking at his friend guiltily.

"Oh Neville," his grandmother sighed before walking into the two storey house.

"It's ok Neville, it was just the shock," Sophie said kindly to Neville, who was looking sad. She followed him into the house and gazed around at it in wonder.

"Who are they?" she asked, pointing to a picture of a round faced woman next to a man. Neville saddened again and she instinctively knew that she had hit a touchy subject. "Oh, you don't have to answer if you don't want to..."

"They're my parents," Neville muttered and didn't say anything else. Tactfully, Sophie refrained from breaching the subject further.

"This is the nicest house I've ever been in," Sophie said sincerely as she bumped into Mrs Longbottom, who beamed.

"That's very nice of you, Miss Potter."

"Please, call me Sophie," Sophie said.

"Ok Sophie. Your things are up in the guest room." With that, she went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. She followed Neville up to the room and they sat down on the bed.

"So..." he began.

"So..." Sophie mimicked.

"What do you want to do?"

"Read."

"It's the holidays!" he said.

"Oh whatever, what would you suggest?" she said, punching his arm.

"Snowball fight?" Sophie smiled evilly and Neville was beginning to regret having suggested that they have a snowball fight.

Half an hour later, the two of them ran back inside, rosy cheeked. Sophie had seen a whole different side of Neville: way different from the shy, scared boy at Hogwarts. This Neville wasn't afraid to hold back.

Neville had also seen another side of Sophie: the fun-loving, happy side. Different from the cold, nerdy Sophie Potter at school.

"Been having fun, Neville?" Mrs Longbottom asked as she set down steaming bowls of soup for dinner.

"Definitely," he said, flashing Sophie a grin.

"By the way, why didn't your brother come here too?" Mrs Longbottom said. "I would have loved to meet him."

"Oh he wanted to stay with his friend, Ron Weasley," she explained as she sipped some creamy pumpkin soup.

"And what parent does he look like?" she asked.

"Hagrid said that he looks like our dad but with our mum's eyes," she said, finishing her soup.

'Ah, the infamous James Potter," Mrs Longbottom said. "I remember meeting him. Such a nice man he was." Sophie smiled.

After dinner, Sophie changed and said goodnight to Neville, then climbed into the bed in the guest room and fell asleep within minutes.

The rest of her stay with the Longbottoms was really fun. Mrs Longbottom look them Christmas shopping and Sophie had to hide at one point so that Neville wouldn't see what she had bought him. When they got back to Neville's house, they had another snowball fight and then went inside.

A few days later, Sophie was woken up by Neville diving onto her bed.

"Merry Christmas!" he said excitedly.

"You couldn't wait until I _wanted_to wake up?" she said groggily.

"Nope!" he said and she poked her tongue out at him. She then spied a large pile of wrapped packages at the foot of her bed.

"Presents?" she said, surprised.

"You mean you've never gotten presents?" Neville said, just as surprised.

"A few," she said cautiously but Neville let is slide. It was Christmas after all!

She picked up a present wrapped in thick brown paper, which said _To Sophie, from Hagrid_. She unwrapped it and picked up a miniature, crudely cut ukulele.

"How did he know I like playing instruments?" she asked, happily plucking a string.

Her next present was from Ron. She tore the orange paper off to find a book about Quidditch: _Quidditch Teams and their Histories._Shaking her head and smiling, she grabbed the next present, which was from her Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. She read the message: _We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia._

"What did they get you?" her friend asked. She turned the note over and found a fifty pence coin.

"That's the nicest present they've gotten me!" she said, receiving a surprise again. Neville's face darkened but he didn't say anything.

"Oh, who's this from?" she teased, picking up a neatly wrapped present. Neville blushed a light pink and she unwrapped it.

"Curses and Countercurses?" she said delightedly, remembering Harry having to be dragged away from that book in Diagon Alley.

"I figured with your brains you'd be able to master them quickly," he said.

"Thanks Neville!" she said, giving him a quick hug and causing him to blush again. "It's from my grandmother too," he added lightly.

_Merlin, he likes me!_

_Someone got a crush?_

_Get out of my head Harry!_

_Of course he likes you! Hermione's been telling us for at least a month that she's surprised you haven't noticed! And I know you like him back!_

_HARRY JAMES POTTER, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!_

_Whatever. Merry Christmas sis!_

_Merry Christmas!_And with that, her brother vanished from inside her head.

"What was going on?" Neville asked.

"Harry and I have a telepathic connection," she explained.

"Wow," he breathed. Sophie picked up a lumpy parcel and unwrapped it. An emerald green knitted jumper fell out, along with a box of home-made chocolates.

"I think these are from Mrs Weasley," she said, laughing as she put on the jumper.

"That jumper matches your eyes," Neville said and blushed again but Sophie didn't notice. The jumper had a silver S on it and Neville smirked and pointed out that they were Slytherin colours, which earned him a smack.

Her next present was from Hermione: a large bag of Chocolate Frogs, her favourite sweets.

And finally, from Harry, she got a necklace with an emerald in it. She asked Neville to put it on for her and shivered lightly when his fingers brushed her neck.

That night's Christmas dinner was the best she'd ever had. She piled her plate with turkey, potatoes and peas and poured gravy over them.

"Hungry?" Neville grinned.

'Starving," she replied, chewing some turkey and trying not to dirty her new jumper.

A giant Christmas pudding followed and Sophie managed to claim the holly berries on top before Neville. She looked around at the laughing faces of Neville's family: his grandmother, his Great-Uncle Algie and Great-Aunt Enid (who he had pointed out), and of course Neville.

_So this is what I've been missing out on_she thought, a little sadly. It was Sophie's best Christmas ever, and also her first without her brother.

A few days later, Sophie, Mrs Longbottom and Neville had Apparated outside Hermione's house.

"Hi Sophie!" Hermione said excitedly, running up and hugging Sophie. 'Did you like my present?"

"Loved it, they were yum!" Sophie replied as her friend let her go. "Did you like mine?"

"Definitely!" Hermione held up a moving photo in a frame that Sophie had sent her. It was of Sophie and Hermione laughing and wrestling each other out of the frame.

"I guess we'd better go now," Mrs Longbottom said and Neville clutched her arm.

'See you at Hogwarts Neville!" Sophie said and hugged her friend. She let go and he vanished, so she contented herself with throwing a snowball at Hermione's bushy brown head.

"Hey!' she cried. "Oh, you're going to get it!" She threw a snowball at Sophie and the two fought until they looked like snowgirls.

The rest of the holidays passed quickly. Sophie had a really fun time with Hermione and Mr and Mrs Granger seemed to approve of their daughter's new friend. They seemed even happier when Sophie mentioned that Hermione was a really fun person to be around.

Most people saw Hermione as a bookworm who read all the time and was all about studying but Sophie saw the real Hermione: caring, fun and slightly rebellious.

On their last night, Hermione pulled out some Every Flavour Beans and Chocolate Frogs, as well as other Muggle sweets, and they had a sweet party.

"Mmm, I love chocolate," Sophie said, relishing the flavour of her Chocolate Frog.

"So do I!" Hermione said, popping a bean into her mouth. "Eww, glue!" Sophie laughed at her friend's misfortune.

They spent the rest of the night reading some books of Hermione's, then went to bed to get up early the next morning.

"Come on get up!" Hermione called, shaking Sophie awake from the spare bed in her room.

"Wha?" Sophie murmured. _Did I mention I'm_not _a morning person?_

"We'll be late!" Hermione said and jumped off to pack her trunk. Grumbling to herself, Sophie dressed and packed too, pulling her auburn hair up into a ponytail. She pulled her green jumper on again, along with some jeans, and followed Hermione into the dining room, where she was having a hasty breakfast.

"Here, eat this!" Hermione said, giving Sophie some toast.

"Thanks," Sophie said, her mouth full.

At ten thirty, the four of them piled into the car and set off for King's Cross. They arrived with fifteen minutes to spare. Hermione and Sophie ran through the barrier together and Mr and Mrs Granger followed.

"Bye mum, bye dad!" Hermione said as she hugged her parents and went to find an empty compartment.

"Thanks for having me!" Sophie said happily as she shook Hermione's parents' hands.

"It was a pleasure having you," Mrs Granger said and Sophie beamed, then followed Hermione.

"Hey Mione," Sophie smiled, sitting down on the opposite seat.

'Hey Soph," she replied and they both pouted at their nicknames.

"Sophie! Hermione!" The compartment door opened and Sophie grinned as Neville walked in and sat down next to her. Sophie saw Hermione smirk knowingly at her and blushed faintly.

Sophie immensely enjoyed the ride back to Hogwarts and bought a large bag of Every Flavour Beans.

"Grape!" Neville said gleefully.

"Yuck, paper!" Sophie said, wrinkling her nose.

"Pineapple!" Hermione said smugly.

"Why am I worse off?" Sophie asked, pretending to cry.

'Because you hang around the worst people," a drawling voice said.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Sophie sighed, turning to face the blond boy.

"I just thought I'd say hi!" he said and Sophie rolled her eyes. He looked at Neville sitting next to her and said "Longbottom, finally got yourself a girlfriend? I must admit I thought it would take you longer. Potters really don't have any taste, do they?" Neville looked like he was going to cry and Sophie stood up furiously.

"Ok Malfoy, one he is not my boyfriend: just a really good friend. And two we Potters do have good taste! If we didn't, we'd be friends with you." Malfoy looked furious and pulled out his wand but Sophie beat him to it.

"Locomotor mortis!" she shouted and Malfoy's legs shot together. Giving her a look of pure hatred, he shut the compartment door and hopped away. Hermione was giggling and Neville was lying on his seat, shaking with laughter.

"You are...the best...Sophie!" he choked out and, grinning, Sophie sat down next to him.

"No one insults my friends and gets away with it," she said.

They spent the rest of the trip eating and reading and Sophie was a little sad as her best Christmas ever drew to a close.

**Yeah, Christmas special! We already know what Harry's was like, why not his sister's? Anyway, please check out my poll and vote, you'll make a difference to the story!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks to all the people who voted in my poll and reviewed! Especially xXMizz Alec VolturiXx, who is a constant reviewer! Majority rules xXMizz Alec VolturiXx, so don't be disappointed if I don't do Sophie/Draco! And lonewolf (an anonymous reviewer), Sophie isn't afraid of heights anymore! She got over it when she got onto Harry's Nimbus 2000!**

When Sophie got back to Hogwarts, her brother told her all about the Invisibility Cloak and the Mirror of Erised. She was torn between disapproval of him becoming ensnared by the mirror and told him what's done is done, and longing and sadness that she didn't get to see her parents.

Hermione took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was. But she was sympathetic when Sophie said how lucky Harry was that he got to see their mum and dad.

They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry and Sophie were still sure they'd read the name somewhere. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Harry had even less time than the other three, because Quidditch practice had started again.

Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Harry was on Wood's side.

If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Harry found that he had fewer nightmares when he was tired out after training.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.

"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

George Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words.

"Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."

The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too.

"It's not my fault," said Wood. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

Which was all very well, thought Harry, but he had another reason for not wanting Snape near him while he was playing Quidditch…

The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Ron and Hermione playing chess, while Sophie was reading the book Neville had got her for Christmas.

Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her. Sophie reluctantly thought that but she was almost as good as Ron at chess.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him, "I need to concen—" He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the other three about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," said Sophie at once.

"Say you're ill," said Ron.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

"Really break your leg," said Ron.

"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Sophie, who leapt up and performed the counter curse at once.

Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling. "What happened?" Sophie asked him, leading him over to sit with herself, Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Shouldn't have used it on him,' Sophie muttered, feeling a little guilty.

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head.

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier." Sophie whacked him and he realised that Neville would probably take it the wrong way.

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.

Harry felt in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry and Sophie smiled at her brother's gesture.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," she said and Harry nodded fiercely. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.

"Thanks, you two… I think I'll go to bed… D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"

As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

"Dumbledore again," he said, "He was the first one I ever —"

He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron, Sophie and Hermione.

"I've found him!" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here — listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!"

'All that and we find him on a Chocolate Frog?" Sophie gasped, facepalming.

Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.

"Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.

"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly.

"Hey, didn't we get this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading?" Sophie asked and Harry and Ron gaped at them.

"Light?" said Ron, but Hermione and Sophie told him to be quiet until they'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to themselves.

At last they found what they were looking for.

"I knew it! I knew it!" Hermione murmured.

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily. The girls ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel," Sophie whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

This didn't have quite the effect they'd expected.

"The what?" said Harry and Ron.

"Oh, honestly, don't you two read?" Sophie sighed.

"Look–read that, there," Hermione said.

She pushed the book toward them, and Harry and Ron read:

The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.

There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).

"See?" said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished.

"The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!" Sophie added and Hermione nodded furiously.

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."

"I don't think it's Snape..." Sophie muttered, thinking hard. The other three stared at her but Harry knew not to interrupt his sister when she was thinking.

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?" Sophie snorted but still had a dreamy look on her face.

_It can't be Snape_she thought. _Hmm, it might be Quirrell._She began to list possible signs that proved Quirrell guilty. _Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast? Unless HE was the one who let the troll in...And what's the deal with that funny smell around his turban? That can't be garlic..._She decided to keep an eye on Quirrell.

The next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they'd do with a Philosopher's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match.

"I'm going to play," he told Ron, Sophie and Hermione. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them… it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," said Sophie worriedly.

As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron, Sophie and Hermione (Sophie knew he was lying). The rest of the team wasn't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?

Harry didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own.

Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Could Snape possibly know they'd found out about the Philosopher's Stone?

Harry didn't see how he could—yet he and his sister sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.

Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ron, Sophie and Hermione were wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again.

This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Ron, Sophie and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. He was just happy to get the opportunity to sit next to Sophie again and Hermione smirked knowingly, making her blush a very faint pink.

Little did Harry know that Ron, Sophie and Hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse.

They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville (and Hermione got it from Sophie using it on Malfoy), and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.

"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.

"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."

"Hermione, that really didn't help," Sophie said. 'I'm nervous enough as it is."

"Sorry," she said.

Back in the locker room, Wood had taken Harry aside.

"Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favour Hufflepuff too much."

"The whole school's out there!" said Fred Weasley, peering out of the door. "Even—blimey— Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Harry's heart did a somersault.

"Dumbledore?" he said, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard.

Harry could have laughed out loud with relief, he was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try to hurt him if Dumbledore was watching.

Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched onto the field, something that Ron noticed, too.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione and Sophie. "Look — they're off. Ouch!"

Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle and Sophie rolled her eyes.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley? Or you Potter, want to bet on how good your brother is?"

Ron and Sophie didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him and Sophie was trying to ignore him.

Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money — you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy, while Sophie fumed.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered and Sophie beamed.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville," at the same time as Sophie.

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron and Sophie's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy—one more word—" Sophie muttered.

"Ron! Sophie!" said Hermione suddenly, "Harry—"

"What? Where?"

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground.

Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help, while Sophie roared and jumped on top of Ron and Malfoy, forcing Ron out of the way.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape—she didn't even notice Malfoy, Sophie and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches — the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Ron! Ron! Sophie! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.

Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it — the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped — then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.

"Well done," said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry could hear. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror… been keeping busy… excellent…"

Snape spat bitterly on the ground.

Harry left the locker room with his sister some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He couldn't ever remember feeling happier. He'd really done something to be proud of now – no one could say he was just a famous name any more.

The evening air had never smelled so sweet. The twins walked over the damp grass, Harry reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him onto their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed and Sophie running up and hugging him, sporting a black eye and a satisfied grin.

Harry and Sophie had reached the shed. They leaned against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. Harry had done it, he'd shown Snape and Sophie was proud…

And speaking of Snape…

A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. Harry's victory and Sophie's brawl faded from their minds as they watched. They recognised the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner—what was going on?

Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand, Sophie jumped on behind him and they took off. Gliding silently over the castle they saw Snape enter the forest at a run. They followed.

The trees were so thick they couldn't see where Snape had gone. They flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until they heard voices. Harry and Sophie glided toward them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree.

Harry climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves, while Sophie jumped silently up onto a higher branch and perched there.

Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Sophie saw his face and gaped at how fake the scared look was, further strengthening her theory that Quirrell was guilty. The twins strained to catch what they were saying.

"… d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus…"

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy.

"Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all."

Harry and Sophie leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something. Snape interrupted him.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I —"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him.

"I-I don't know what you—"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hooted loudly, and Harry nearly fell out of the tree, while Sophie fell off her branch and hooked her legs over the branch below, so that she was dangling upside down. They steadied themselves in time to hear Snape say, "— your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't —"

"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."

He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Harry and Sophie could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified.

"Harry, Sophie, where have you been?" Hermione squeaked.

"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And Sophie and I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right: talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this…"

He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he'd seen and heard.

"So we were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy — and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocus' — I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through —"

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" said Hermione in alarm and Sophie wondered how they couldn't see that Quirrell was the one after the Stone.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.

**Forgive me if I update heaps in one day: I just wanna get to the good bits like Goblet of Fire and stuff like that! Don't forget to vote in my poll!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks to the 17 reviews I have! You guys are amazing! And thanks to those who voted in my poll! Even though I'd prefer Neville, I can see that most of you want Draco Malfoy! Now I'll have to figure out how to incorporate it into the story...Oh boy...Although, just one thing. I can't for the life of me see how Draco would fall for Sophie! A Malfoy and a Potter who hate each other...I just think that's wrong...Oh well, it's up to you guys! Here's the chapter!**

Quirrell, however, must have been braver than they'd thought.

In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn't look as though he'd cracked yet.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Harry, Ron, Sophie and Hermione would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe. Whenever Harry passed Quirrell these days he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

Hermione and Sophie, however, had more on their minds than the Philosopher's Stone. They had started drawing up study schedules and color coding all her notes. Harry and Ron wouldn't have minded, but Hermione kept nagging them to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"Good point," Sophie said.

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her.

"Also a good point," Sophie shrugged and went back to studying.

"Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me…" Sophie and Hermione were both babbling the same thing and Harry was growing frightened of his sister.

Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as the girls. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones.

It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or Sophie practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work.

"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.

Harry, who was looking up "Dittany" in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, didn't look up until he heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once.

"An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ron impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Philosopher's St—"

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy —"

"SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen — come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh —"

"See you later, then," said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione thoughtfully and Sophie's face screwed up in thought.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?" she finally said.

"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ron, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.

"Dragons!" he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide. "

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him, " said Harry.

"But it's against our laws," said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden — anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania." Sophie looked at him in interest.

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" said Sophie.

"Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" said Hermione.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them.

It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused.

"So — yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," said Harry. There was no point beating around the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowned at him.

"O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts — I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Sophie in a warm, flattering voice.

Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." Hermione added."We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Harry and Ron beamed at Hermione and Sophie.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that… let's see… he borrowed Fluffy from me… then some o' the teachers did enchantments… Professor Sprout — Professor Flitwick — Professor McGonagall —" he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell — an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?"

"Yeah — yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

Harry knew Ron, Sophie and Hermione were thinking the same as he was. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything — except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy.

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy. aren't you, Hagrid?" said Harry anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.

"Well, that's something," Sophie muttered to the others. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Sophie, sorry," said Hagrid. Harry and Sophie noticed him glance at the fire. They looked at it, too.

"Hagrid — what's that?"

But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

"Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's — er…"

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library —Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit — it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here — how ter recognize diff'rent eggs — what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione and Sophie didn't.

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," Hermione pointed out and Sophie nodded worriedly.

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.

So now they had something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.

"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Ron sighed and the twins snorted. Evening after evening they struggled through all the extra homework they were getting. Hermione had now started making study schedules for Harry and Ron, too. It was driving them nuts and even Sophie was admitting that Hermione was going a bit over the top.

Then, one breakfast time, Hedwig brought Harry another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words: It's hatching.

Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut. Hermione and Sophie wouldn't hear of it.

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing—" Hermione started.

"Shut up!" Harry whispered.

Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? Harry didn't like the look on Malfoy's face at all.

Ron and Hermione argued all the way to Herbology (which gave Harry and Sophie a massive headache) and in the end, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid's with the other three during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the four of them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out." He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it. They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.

All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; Harry and Sophie thought it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.

It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" said Hagrid and Sophie snorted.

"Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?" _Good question_Harry thought and his sister agreed.

Hagrid was about to answer when the colour suddenly drained from his face — he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains — it's a kid — he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him. Malfoy had seen the dragon.

Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week made Harry, Ron, Sophie and Hermione very nervous. They spent most of their free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

"Just let him go," Harry urged. "Set him free."

"I can't," said Hagrid. "He's too little. He'd die." Sophie rolled her eyes at the irony.

They looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered in Harry's ear and Hermione and Sophie nodded.

"Hagrid," said Harry loudly, "give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip.

"I—I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

Sophie suddenly turned to Ron. "Charlie." he said.

"You're losing it, too," said Ron. "I'm Ron, remember?"

"No—Charlie—your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

"Brilliant!" said Ron. "How about it, Hagrid?"

And in the end, Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione, Sophie and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off the twins' invisibility cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

"It bit me!" he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby." Sophie smirked.

There was a tap on the dark window.

"It's Hedwig!" said Harry, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"

The four of them put their heads together to read the note.

_Dear Ron,_

_How are you? Thanks for the letter—I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon._

_Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark._

_Send me an answer as soon as possible._

_Love,_

_Charlie_

They looked at one another.

"We've got the invisibility cloak," said Harry. "It shouldn't be too difficult – I think the cloak's big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the other two agreed with him. Anything to get rid of Norbert—and Malfoy.

There was a hitch. By the next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey — would she recognize a dragon bite? By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.

Harry, Sophie and Hermione rushed up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed.

"It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me—I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me—I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down, while Sophie looked murderous.

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," said Hermione, but this didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.

"Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Oh no oh no — I've just remembered — Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."

Harry, Sophie and Hermione didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep.

"It's too late to change the plan now," Harry told the girls. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that. So, who's coming with me?"

"I will," Sophie replied. "Sibling partnership!" Her brother smiled and Hermione marvelled at how much they got along.

The twins found Fang, the boarhound, sitting outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them.

"I won't let you in," he puffed. "Norbert's at a tricky stage — nothin' I can't handle."

When they told him about Charlie's letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.

"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot — jus' playin' — he's only a baby, after all."

The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle.

Harry and Sophie walked back to the castle feeling Saturday couldn't come quickly enough.

They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say good-bye to Norbert if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night, and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid's hut because they'd had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though the teddy was having his head torn off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Sophie covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mommy will never forget you!"

How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another – even one of Harry's shortcuts didn't make the work much easier.

"Nearly there!" Harry panted as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

Then a sudden movement ahead of them made them almost drop the crate. Forgetting that they were already invisible, they shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared. Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you —"

"You don't understand, Professor. Harry and Sophie Potter are coming — they've got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on — I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. Sophie did a sort of jig.

"Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!"

"Don't," Harry advised her.

Chuckling about Malfoy, they waited, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness.

Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They showed Harry and Sophie the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Harry and Hermione shook hands with the others and thanked them very much.

At last, Norbert was going… going… gone.

They slipped back down the spiral staircase, their hearts as light as their hands, now that Norbert was off them. No more dragon — Malfoy in detention — what could spoil their happiness?

The answer to that was waiting at the foot of the stairs. As they stepped into the corridor, Filch's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness.

"Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble."

They'd left the invisibility cloak on top of the tower.

**Oooh, BURN! Or is that FAIL! Anyway, don't forget to vote in my poll! Cya!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Yeowch, I'm gonna have quite a job trying to incorporate Draco and Sophie romance but I will try my best! I don't have to worry about it til the Goblet of Fire, so there's still plenty of time! If I have big trouble trying to get Sophie/Draco into this, I might have to go with Neville/Sophie, coz that feels more natural! But I will go with the majority if I can!**

Things couldn't have been worse.

Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor, where they sat and waited without saying a word to each other. Sophie was trembling. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover- up stories chased each other around Harry's brain, each more feeble than the last.

They couldn't see how they were going to get out of trouble this time. They were cornered. How could they have been so stupid as to forget the cloak?

There was no reason on earth that Professor McGonagall would accept for their being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest astronomy tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. Add Norbert and the invisibility cloak, and they might as well be packing their bags already.

Had Harry thought that things couldn't have been worse? He was wrong. When Professor McGonagall appeared, she was leading Neville.

"Harry! Sophie!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw the other two. "I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag—"

Harry shook his head violently to shut Neville up, but Professor McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the three of them.

"I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves."

It was the first time Sophie had ever failed to answer a teacher's question. She was staring at her slippers, as still as a statue.

"I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," said Professor McGonagall. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble.

I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"

Harry caught Neville's eye and tried to tell him without words that this wasn't true, because Neville was looking stunned and hurt. Poor, blundering Neville — Harry knew what it must have cost him to try and find them in the dark, to warn them. Sophie looked at him sadly and she looked like she was going to cry.

_How could I have gotten him into trouble?_

_Soph, it's not your fault._

_Oh Merlin..._

"I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall. "Four students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Potter, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. All three of you will receive detentions — yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous — and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."

"Fifty?" Harry gasped—they would lose the lead, the lead he'd won in the last Quidditch match.

"Fifty points each," said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.

"Professor — please —"

"You can't —"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students."

A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, they'd ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the house cup.

Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. How could they ever make up for this? Sophie still looked as if she was going to cry and Neville was sobbing.

Harry didn't sleep all night. He could hear Neville sobbing into his pillow for what seemed like hours and through his telepathic connection he could hear his sister crying softly. Harry couldn't think of anything to say to comfort him. He knew Neville and Sophie, like himself, were dreading the dawn. What would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what they'd done?

At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the house points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could they suddenly have a hundred and fifty points fewer than yesterday? And then the story started to spread: Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, their hero of two Quidditch matches, and his equally famous sister, the super smart Sophie Potter had lost them all those points, him and another stupid first year.

From being two of the most popular and admired people at the school, Harry and Sophie were suddenly the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on them, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup. Everywhere Harry and Sophie went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted him.

Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as he walked past them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks Potter, we owe you one!"

Only Ron and Hermione stood by them.

"They'll all forget this in a few weeks. Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them," Ron said.

"They've never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they?" said Harry miserably.

"Well — no," Ron admitted.

It was a bit late to repair the damage, but Harry swore to himself not to meddle in things that weren't his business from now on. He'd had it with sneaking around and spying and so had Sophie.

Harry felt so ashamed of himself that he went to Wood and offered to resign from the Quidditch team.

"Resign?" Wood thundered. "What good'll that do? How are we going to get any points back if we can't win at Quidditch?"

But even Quidditch had lost its fun. The rest of the team wouldn't speak to Harry during practice, and if they had to speak about him, they called him "the Seeker." Sophie looked like she was going to be kicking some butt soon and he sincerely hoped that it wouldn't come to that, as his sister was scary when she was annoyed or angry

Neville was suffering, too. He didn't have as bad a time as the twins, because he wasn't as well-known, but nobody would speak to him, either. Sophie had even stopped drawing attention to herself in class, keeping her head down and working in silence.

Harry was almost glad that the exams weren't far away. All the studying he had to do kept his mind off his misery. He, Ron, Sophie and Hermione kept to themselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorize the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions…

Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Harry's new resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern him was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, he heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As he drew closer, he heard Quirrell's voice.

"No — no — not again, please —"

It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry moved closer.

"All right — all right —" he heard Quirrell sob.

Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; Harry didn't think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway toward it before he remembered what he'd promised himself about not meddling.

All the same, he'd have gambled twelve Philosopher's Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step — Quirrell seemed to have given in at last.

Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy and Sophie was going over her History of Magic notes. Harry told them what he'd heard.

"Snape's done it, then!" said Ron. "If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell —"

"There's still Fluffy, though," said Hermione.

"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. "I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?"

The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Sophie answered before Harry could.

"Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure."

"But we've got no proof!" said Harry. "Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor — who do you think they'll believe, him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining."

Hermione and Sophie looked convinced, but Ron didn't.

"If we just do a bit of poking around—"

"No," said Harry flatly, "we've done enough poking around." Sophie snorted.

He pulled a map of Jupiter toward him and started to learn the names of its moons.

The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Sophie, and Neville at the breakfast table. They were all the same:

_Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight._

_Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall._

_Professor McGonagall_

Harry had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the future over the points they'd lost. He half expected Sophie to complain that this was a whole night of studying lost, but she didn't say a word. Like Harry, she felt they deserved what they'd got.

At eleven o'clock that night, they said good-bye to Ron and Hermione in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there — and so was Malfoy. Harry had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too and Sophie smirked at him.

"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside. "I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at them. "Oh yes… hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me… It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out… hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed… Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing and Sophie squeezed his hand comfortingly. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted.

The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Harry's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy — it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

At this, Neville let out a little moan, Sophie went white and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night — there's all sorts of things in there — werewolves, I heard."

Neville clutched the sleeve of Sophie's robe and made a choking noise.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

"Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, "they're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.

"I'm not going in that forest," he said, and the twins were pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd—"

"—tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on."

Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery." Sophie's face saddened.

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. "So me, Harry, an' Sophie'll go one way an' Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now — that's it — an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh — so, be careful — let's go."

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, Sophie, and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy, Neville, and Fang took the right.

They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

Harry saw that Hagrid looked very worried.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked.

"Not fast enough," said Hagrid. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

They walked past a mossy tree stump. Harry could hear running water; there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

"You all right, Sophie?" Hagrid whispered. "Don' worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter — GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"

Hagrid seized Harry and Sophie and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

"I knew it," he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be."

"A werewolf?" Sophie suggested timidly. She wasn't as brave as her brother and the both of them knew it, but she made up for it with her brains. That wasn't to say that she was a coward though. She was still incredibly brave.

"That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," said Hagrid grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now."

They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself — I'm armed!"

And into the clearing came — was it a man, or a horse?

To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Sophie's jaws dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief. "How are yeh?"

He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.

"A centaur!" Sophie breathed.

"Good evening to you, Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be too careful, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry an' Sophie Potter, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur.

"We'd noticed," said Sophie faintly.

"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

"Erm —"

"A bit," said Sophie.

"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

_That's not good_Sophie thought. _Mars is the planet of war._

_Great, just what we need_her brother thought back, his thoughts laced with sarcasm.

"Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt — you seen anythin'?"

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again.

"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it has been for ages past, so it is now."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, "but have yeh seen anythin' Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him impatiently. "Unusually bright."

"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home," said Hagrid. "So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"

Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest hides many secrets."

A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and - bodied and wilder-looking than Ronan.

"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid. "All right?"

"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?"

"Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured — would yeh know anythin' about it?"

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward. "Mars is bright tonight," he said simply.

"We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then."

Harry and Sophie followed him out of the clearing, staring over their shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view.

"Never," said Hagrid irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" asked Sophie.

"Oh, a fair few… Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs… they know things… jus' don' let on much."

"D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" said Harry.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns – never heard anythin' like it before."

They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry and Sophie kept looking nervously over their shoulders. They had the nasty feeling they were being watched.

They were very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Sophie grabbed Hagrid's arm.

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"

They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" whispered Sophie.

"I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Neville… it's our fault he's here in the first place."

The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry's seemed to be picking up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others?

At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Neville, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups — Neville, you stay with me an' Sophie, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot. I'm sorry," Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry, "but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we've gotta get this done."

Sophie watched her brother walk off with Malfoy until she couldn't see him any longer and Neville stayed with him.

"Sophie!" he gasped and Sophie raised her wand.

"What?"

"Where's Hagrid?" Sophie looked around and she felt a pang of fright as she realised that Hagrid was gone.

"C'mon," she murmured and they set off along the path. Neville held onto her arm and she kept her wand raised.

"Aargh!" she gasped and fell to her knees, clutching her burning scar.

"Sophie? Sophie!" Neville said.

"Ow...my scar..." she moaned and suddenly saw a black figure through her brother's eyes. "Neville, Harry's in danger!"

"You go find him, I'll get Hagrid!" Neville said bravely and ran off. Sophie took a step forward and her scar burned again. Following the burning, she made it to a clearing, where a brilliant white horse lay dead.

"Harry!" She saw her brother on the ground, clutching his forehead, and a black hooded figure slithering over to him. She fell to her knees as the pain in her head intensified and, just as the figure reached her brother, she heard hooves.

When they looked up, a centaur was standing over them, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body.

Are you all right?" said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet and helping his sister up.

"Yes—thank you—what was that?"

The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry and Sophie, his eyes lingering on the scars that stood out, livid, on their foreheads.

"You are the Potter twins," he said. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time—especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.

"My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry and Sophie could clamber onto his back.

There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.

"Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

"Do you realize who these are?" said Firenze. "These are the Potter twins. The quicker they leave this forest, the better."

"What have you been telling them?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"

Ronan pawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said in his gloomy voice.

Bane kicked his back legs in anger.

"For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"

Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders, and Sophie her brother's shoulders, to stay on.

"Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must."

And Firenze whisked around; with Harry and Sophie clutching on as best as they could, they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.

Neither Harry nor Sophie had a clue what was going on.

"Why's Bane so angry?" Harry asked. "What was that thing you saved us from, anyway?"

Firenze slowed to a walk, warned the brother and sister to keep their heads bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer Harry's question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn't want to talk to him anymore, while Sophie knew that he was thinking. They were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.

"Harry and Sophie Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"No," said Harry, startled by the odd question.

"We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions," Sophie added. "Professor Snape told me that it would be horrendous to use the blood and left it at that."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenceless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

Harry stared at the back of Firenze's head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight, and Sophie's eyes were wide.

"But who'd be that desperate?" he wondered aloud. "If you're going to be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?"

"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else — something that will bring you back to full strength and power — something that will mean you can never die. Mr and Miss Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Philosopher's Stone!" Sophie exclaimed. "Of course—the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who—"

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry and Sophie's hearts. Over the rustling of the trees, they seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told them on the night they had met: "Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die."

"Do you mean," Harry croaked, "that was Vol-"

"Harry! Sophie, are you all right?"

Neville was running toward them down the path towards Sophie, Hagrid puffing along behind him.

"I'm fine," said Sophie, hardly knowing what she was saying.

"The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there," her brother added.

"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."

Harry and Sophie slid off his back.

"Good luck, Harry and Sophie Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."

He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving the twins shivering behind him. Neville reached Sophie and hugged her happily, then broke away. She smiled weakly at him.

Ron and Hermione had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. Ron shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake and Hermione murmured "Swish and flick," when Sophie jabbed her with her wand.

In a matter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry and Sophie began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the forest.

Harry couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire, while Sophie sat with Hermione. They were still shaking.

"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort… and Voldemort's waiting in the forest… and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich…"

"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them and Sophie rolled her eyes.

'It's not Snape," she murmured.

Harry wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved us, but he shouldn't have done so… Bane was furious… he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen… They must show that Voldemort's coming back… Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill Sophie and I… I suppose that's written in the stars as well."

"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed and earned himself a whack across the head from a very tense female Potter.

"So all we've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish us off… Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of, with Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

"Exactly," Sophie said. 'And it's not Snape!"

The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went to bed exhausted, their throats sore. But the night's surprises weren't over.

When Harry pulled back his sheets, he found his invisibility cloak folded neatly underneath them. There was a note pinned to it:

_Just in case._

**Ok, remember the poll! Although I'm losing heart...I really don't think I'll be able to do a Draco/Sophie...But I'll keep it up to see what's most popular...Sorry Drophie fans if I can't write it! Seriously, so sorry!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Ok then, thanks to everyone who has voted in my poll and I have a question for you: Why do you think Snape favours Sophie but hates Harry? The person who gets this right will get a mega bag of cookies!**

In years to come, Harry and Sophie would never quite remember how they had managed to get through their exams when they half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-cheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox — points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion (Sophie loved the irony).

Harry and Sophie did the best they could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in their foreheads, which had been bothering them ever since their trip into the forest. Neville thought Harry and Sophie had a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep and Sophie was always so tense, but the truth was that both Harry and Sophie kept being woken by his old nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figure dripping blood in it.

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what the twins had seen in the forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but Ron and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry and Sophie were. The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds.

"Yeah, I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager," Sophie added and the boys gaped at the girls.

Hermione and Sophie always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

"No more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You could look more cheerful, you two, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

Harry was rubbing his forehead and Sophie had her head in her hands.

"I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "Our scars keep hurting—it's happened before, but never as often as this." Sophie moaned in agreement.

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.

"We're not ill," said Sophie. "We think it's a warning…it means danger's coming…"

Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.

"Harry, Sophie, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

The twins nodded, but they couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something they'd forgotten to do, something important. When Harry tried to explain this, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."

"I know that feeling," Sophie said but wasn't sure that the feeling had anything to do with work.

Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn't have anything to do with work either. He watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy… never… but…

Harry suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Where're you going?" said Ron sleepily.

"I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had turned white and so had his sister, who had realised what he was on about. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

"Why?" panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Sophie, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket?

"How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't we see it before?" Harry finished.

"What are you talking about?" said Ron, but Harry and Sophie, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer.

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," said Ron, but Harry cut him off.

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, We've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."

He saw the four of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows.

"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head — that's one of the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas and Sophie sat on his lap. "What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?" she said, the worry etching itself on her face.

"Mighta come up," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah… he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here… He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I took after… so I told him… an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon… an' then… I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks…Let's see… yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted… but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home… So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy…"

"And did he — did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Well — yeah — how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep —"

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey — where're yeh goin'?"

Harry, Ron, Sophie and Hermione didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Harry. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak — it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

They looked around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him.

"We'll just have to—" Sophie began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

"What are you three doing inside?"

It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, rather bravely, Harry and Ron thought. Sophie wasn't paying attention.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"

Harry swallowed—now what?

"It's sort of secret," he said, but he wished at once he hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone?" said Harry frantically. "Now?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time–"

"But this is important!" Sophie protested.

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Miss Potter?"

"Look," said Harry, throwing caution to the winds, "Professor—it's about the Philosopher's Stone—"

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up..

"How do you know—?" she spluttered.

"Professor, we think—we know—that Sn—that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. We've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

She eyed him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor—"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they didn't.

"It's tonight," said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we—" Sophie started.

Hermione gasped. Harry, Sophie and Ron wheeled round.

Snape was standing there.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.

They stared at him.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, with an odd, twisted smile.

"We were—" Sophie began, without any idea what she was going to say.

"You want to be more careful," said Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"

Harry and Sophie flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.

"Be warned, Potter—any more night time wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."

He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.

Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the others.

"Right, here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently. "One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape—wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, you'd better do that."

"Why me?"

"It's obvious," said Ron. "You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know."

He put on a high voice, "'Oh Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong… '"

"Oh, shut up," said Hermione, but she agreed to go and watch out for Snape.

"Sophie, you do some research and try and find out what could be guarding the Stone," Harry continued. Sophie grinned and hurried off.

"And we'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor," Harry told Ron. "Come on."

But that part of the plan didn't work. No sooner had they reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her temper.

"I suppose you think you're harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!" she stormed. "Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you've come anywhere near here again, I'll take another fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Weasley, from my own house!"

Harry and Ron went back to the common room, where Sophie was immersed in a book. Harry had just said, "At least Hermione's on Snape's tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Hermione came in.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" she wailed. "Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and I've only just got away, I don't know where Snape went."

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Harry said.

The other three stared at him. He was pale and his eyes were glittering.

"Sophie and I are going out of here tonight and we're going to try and get to the Stone first."

"You're mad!" said Ron.

"You can't!" said Hermione. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"

"SO WHAT?" Harry shouted. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup?"

"If we get caught before we can get to the Stone, well, we'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find us there, it's only dying a bit later than we would have, because we're never going over to the Dark Side!" Sophie yelled, her face a mirror of her brother's. And for once Ron and Hermione could see more resemblance between them other than their eyes.

"We're going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop us! Voldemort killed our parents, remember?" Harry said.

He glared at them.

"You're right Harry," said Hermione in a small voice.

"We'll use the invisibility cloak," said Harry. "It's just lucky I got it back."

"But will it cover all four of us?" said Ron.

"All—all four of us?" Sophie stammered.

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you two go alone?"

"Of course not," said Hermione briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful…"

"But if we get caught, you two will be expelled, too."

"Not if I can help it," said Hermione grimly. "Flitwick told me in secret that Sophie and I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

After dinner the four of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry and Sophie any more, after all. This was the first night Harry hadn't been upset by it (Sophie had been used to it; she hadn't been the most popular person in her Muggle school and she was a lone wolf anyway).

Hermione and Sophie were skimming through all their notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try to break. Harry and Ron didn't talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do.

Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.

"Better get the cloak," Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upstairs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy — he didn't feel much like singing.

He ran back down to the common room.

"We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all four of us–if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own—"

"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Neville, nothing," said Harry, hurriedly putting the cloak behind his back.

Neville stared at their guilty faces.

"You're going out again," he said.

"No, no, no," said Sophie, who felt terrible at lying to her best friend. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"

Harry looked at the grandfather clock by the door. They couldn't afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

"You can't go out," said Neville, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"You don't understand," said Harry, "this is important."

But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate.

"I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll — I'll fight you!"

"Neville, "Ron exploded, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot —"

"Don't you call me an idiot!" said Neville and Sophie (Sophie had replaced the me with a him). "I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us," said Ron in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing."

He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight.

"Go on then, try and hit me!" said Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"

Harry turned to Hermione.

"Do something," he said desperately, knowing that his sister wouldn't raise a finger against Neville.

Hermione stepped forward.

"Neville," she said, "I'm really, really sorry about this."

She raised her wand.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she cried, pointing it at Neville.

Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.

Hermione ran to turn him over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror.

"What've you done to him?" Harry whispered.

"It's the full Body-Bind," said Hermione miserably and Sophie's eyes were filled with tears. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."

"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," said Harry.

"You'll understand later, Neville," said Ron as they stepped over him and pulled on the invisibility cloak.

But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn't feel like a very good omen. In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them. At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs. Norris skulking near the top.

"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispered in Harry's ear, but Harry shook his head. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs. Norris turned her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything.

They didn't meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.

"Who's there?" he said suddenly as they climbed toward him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"

He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them.

"Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."

Harry had a sudden idea.

"Peeves," he said, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible." Sophie smirked widely at her brother.

Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs.

"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, Sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake — I didn't see you — of course I didn't, you're invisible — forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."

"I have business here, Peeves," croaked Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," said Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."

And he scooted off.

"Brilliant, Harry!" whispered Ron and Sophie.

A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor—and the door was already ajar.

"Well, there you are," Harry said quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy."

Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all four of them what was facing them. Underneath the cloak, Harry turned to the other two.

"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," he said. "You can take the cloak, my sister and I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," said Ron.

"We're coming," said Hermione and Sophie felt weird. No one, apart from her brother, had ever cared about the twins and it felt good.

Harry pushed the door open.

As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them.

"What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered.

"Looks like a harp," said Ron. "Snape must have left it there." Sophie didn't even bother, knowing that no one would listen.

"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," said Harry. "Well, here goes…"

He put Hagrid's flute to his lips and blew. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note the beast's eyes began to droop. Harry hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased — it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

"Keep playing," Ron warned Harry as they slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads. "I think we'll be able to pull the door open," said Ron, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first, Hermione?"

"No, I don't!"

"Sophie?"

"Some Gryffindor bravery!"

"All right." Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.

"What can you see?" Hermione said anxiously.

"Nothing—just black—there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."

Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Ron to get his attention and pointed at himself.

"You want to go first? Are you sure?" said Ron. "I don't know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep."

Harry handed the flute over. In the few seconds' silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment Hermione began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep.

Harry climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of the bottom.

He lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at Ron and said, "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the Owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?"

"Right," said Ron.

"See you in a minute, I hope…"

And Harry let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and —

FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant.

"It's okay!" he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp, which was the open trapdoor, "it's a soft landing, you can jump!"

Sophie landed lightly and Ron followed her right away. He landed, sprawled next to Harry.

"What's this stuff?" were his first words. Sophie looked down at the plant, which had twisted a tendril around her ankle, and her eyes widened as she realised what it was. She started struggling towards the wall and said "Guys?"

"Dunno, some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!"

"Guys?" she said again but no one was listening.

The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry's other side.

"We must be miles under the school," she said.

"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," said Ron.

"Lucky!" shrieked Hermione. "Look at you both!"

She leapt up and struggled towards Sophie, who pulled her free. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles too. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.

Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she and Sophie watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.

"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered them. "I know what this is — it's Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.

"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" said Hermione. Sophie had frozen and her mind was blank.

"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.

"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare…what did Professor Sprout say?—it likes the dark and the damp."

"So light a fire!" Harry choked.

"Yes—of course—but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands. Sophie suddenly pulled out her wand.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

"Oh, right!" said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Snape at the plant. In a matter of seconds, Ron felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravelled itself from his body, and he was able to pull free. Sophie aimed her wand at the plant, which was still strangling her brother, and shot bright green flames at the plant, forcing it to free Harry.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione and Sophie," said Harry as he joined them by the wall, wiping sweat off his face.

"Yeah," said Ron, "and lucky Harry and Sophie don't lose their heads in a crisis — 'there's no wood,' honestly."

"This way," said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and the twins were reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, he remembered the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon—Norbert had been bad enough…Sophie sighed at her brother's pessimistic thoughts.

"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered.

Harry listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?"

"I don't know… sounds like wings to me," Sophie said, who could hear it too.

"There's light ahead—I can see something moving."

They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Ron.

"Probably," said Harry. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once…well, there's no other choice…I'll run."

He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. He expected to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled the handle, but it was locked.

The other three followed him. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora charm.

"Now what?" said Ron.

"These birds… they can't be here just for decoration," said Hermione and Sophie nodded.

They watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering —glittering?

"They're not birds!" Harry said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys — look carefully. So that must mean…" he looked around the chamber while the other two squinted up at the flock of keys. "…yes — look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"

"But there are hundreds of them!"

Ron examined the lock on the door.

"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one — probably silver, like the handle." Sophie was mildly impressed at his observation skills.

Harry, Ron and Sophie seized a broomstick (there were only three, so Hermione stayed on the ground) and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. They grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one.

Not for nothing, though, was Harry the youngest Seeker in a century. He had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

"That one!" he called to the others. "That big one—there—no, there—with bright blue wings—the feathers are all crumpled on one side."

Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom. Sophie doubled over on her broom, laughing her head off and earning a glare from Ron.

"We've got to close in on it!" Harry called, not taking his eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at it from above—Sophie, stay below and stop it from going down and I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"

Ron dived, Sophie rocketed upward, the key dodged them both, and Harry streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, Harry leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Ron, Sophie and Hermione's cheers echoed around the high chamber.

They landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned–it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

"Ready?" Harry asked the other three, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. He pulled the door open.

The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron and Hermione shivered slightly – the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron.

"We've got to play our way across the room," Sophie added.

Behind the white pieces they could see another door.

"How?" said Hermione nervously.

"I think," said Ron, "we're going to have to be chessmen."

He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

"Do we—er—have to join you to get across?" The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other three.

"This needs thinking about…" Sophie said. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces…"

Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron and Sophie think. Finally Ron said, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess —"

"We're not offended," said Harry quickly. "Just tell us what to do."

"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go there instead of that castle."

"What about you two?"

"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron.

"And I'll be the queen," Sophie said, as queen was her best position. One of the things she and Ron had in common was that they were both excellent at chess.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop, a castle and the queen turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving four empty squares that Harry, Ron, Sophie and Hermione took.

"White always plays first in chess," said Ron, peering across the board. "Yes… look…"

A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Ron and Sophie started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry's knees were trembling. What if they lost?

"Harry—move diagonally four squares to the right."

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

"Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken.

"Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on," Sophie added.

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron and Sophie only just noticed in time that Harry and Hermione were in danger. They themselves darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," Sophie muttered suddenly. "Let me think—let me think…"

The white queen turned her blank face toward Ron.

"Yes…" he said softly, "It's the only way… I've got to be taken."

"NO!" Harry and Hermione shouted.

"That's chess!" snapped Sophie. "You've got to make some sacrifices!

" I make my move and she'll take me — that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!" Ron said.

"But—"

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"Ron—"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"

There was no alternative.

"Ready?" Ron called, his face pale but determined. "Here I go—now, don't hang around once you've won."

He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor—

Hermione screamed but stayed on her square and Sophie squeezed her hand, as they were on squares next to each other—the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.

Shaking, Harry moved three spaces to the left.

The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, Harry, Sophie and Hermione charged through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he's—?"

"He'll be all right," said Harry, trying to convince himself. "What do you reckon's next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell's spell, and Snape's," Sophie counted.

They had reached another door.

"All right?" Harry whispered.

"Go on."

Harry pushed it open.

A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making both of them pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head. Sophie turned a pale green and looked like she was trying not to puke.

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. "Come on, I can't breathe."

He pulled open the next door, the three of them hardly daring to look at what came next-but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," said Harry. "What do we have to do?"

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.

"Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry and Sophie looked over her shoulder to read it:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

_A riddle!_Sophie thought in delight.

Hermione and Sophie let out a great sigh and Harry, amazed, saw that they were smiling, the very last thing he felt like doing.

"Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic—it's logic—a puzzle.

"A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever," Sophie added.

"But so will we, won't we?"

"Of course not," said Hermione. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."

"But how do we know which to drink?"

"Give us a minute," his sister said.

Hermione and Sophie read the paper several times. Then they walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to themselves and each other and pointing at them. At last, they clapped her hands.

"Got it," Sophie said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire—toward the Stone."

Harry looked at the tiny bottle.

"There's only enough there for two of us," he said. "That's hardly two swallows."

They all looked at each other.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?"

Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.

"You drink that," said Harry. "No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy—go straight to the Owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. My sister and I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but we're no match for him, really."

"But Harry, Sophie—what if You-Know-Who's with him?"

"Well—we were lucky once, weren't we?" said Harry, pointing at his scar.

"We might get lucky again," Sophie said, pointing to her scar as well.

Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and Sophie and threw her arms around them.

"Hermione!"

"Harry—you're a great wizard, you know. And Sophie, you're a great witch!"

"We're not as good as you," said Harry and Sophie, very embarrassed, as she let go of them.

"Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things — friendship and bravery and—oh Harry, oh Sophie—be careful! "

"You drink first," said Harry. "You are sure which is which, aren't you?"

"Positive," said Hermione. She took a long drink from the round bottle at the end, and shuddered.

"It's not poison?" said Sophie anxiously.

"No—but it's like ice."

"Quick, go, before it wears off."

"Good luck—take care."

"GO!" said Sophie

Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

Harry took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. He turned to face the black flames.

"Here we come," he said, and he took a sip and handed the bottle to his sister, who drained the rest of the potion.

It was indeed as though ice was flooding their bodies. She put the bottle down and walked forward after her brother; they braced themselves, saw the black flames licking their bodies, but couldn't feel them—for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire—then they were on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there—but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.

**Done! Yay! Don't forget to vote in my poll and try to answer that question, cya!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Ok then, I will definitely finish the story today and get to work on the Chamber of Secrets! Well, as this is the last chapter, of course I'll finish it...And thanks to Twiggy, who suggested a compromise: Sophie and Draco could be interested in each other but in the end Sophie chooses Neville! So we could have a little bit of Drophie and it would turn into Sophille! Heh, sorry if that sucks but...Oh yeah and I'm going to stay with my cousins for the weekend and I don't get Internet reception there, so I might not be able to update over the weekend! So yeah...just thought I'd give you a warning...**

It was Quirrell.

"You!" gasped Harry and Sophie nodded to herself, knowing that she was right.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.

"Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, you two."

"But I thought—Snape—"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?" Sophie had to admit that it was a clever plan: she and Snape were the only ones who had suspected him.

Harry couldn't take it in. This couldn't be true, it couldn't.

"But Snape tried to kill me!"

"No, he tried to save you," Sophie murmured.

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. You, Miss Potter, accidentally knocked me over as you rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. You broke my eye contact with your brother. Another few seconds and I'd have got him off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a counter curse, trying to save him." The twins squeezed each other's hands and that seemed to comfort them more than anything: knowing that they were there for each other.

"Snape was trying to save me?"

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really… he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular…and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you both tonight."

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry and Sophie, tying them back to back.

"You're too nosy to live, Mr and Miss Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, Potter,, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in?"

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls — you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off — and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly." Sophie smirked at him.

"Now, wait quietly, you two. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

It was only then that Harry and Sophie realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this… but he's in London… I'll be far away by the time he gets back…"

All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror, while Sophie's mind was whirring as to how the mirror could be protecting the Stone.

"I saw you and Snape in the forest—" he blurted out and his sister nodded. _Good plan, keep him busy!_Sophie thought.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me — as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…"

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

"I see the Stone… I'm presenting it to my master… but where is it?"

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him and Sophie, and she went limp to make it easier on him, but they didn't give. They had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much," Harry said.

"And he likes me a lot," Sophie added.

"Oh, he does hate you," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead. And he does favour you Miss Potter, he and your mother were great friends."

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing—I thought Snape was threatening you…"

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face.

"Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions — he is a great wizard and I am weak —"

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Sophie gasped.

"He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it…

Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me… decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…"

Quirrell's voice trailed away. Harry and Sophie were remembering his trip to Diagon Alley—how could they have been so stupid? They'd seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron.

Quirrell cursed under his breath.

"I don't understand… is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

The twin's minds were racing.

_What we want more than anything else in the world at the moment_Sophie thought_is to find the Stone before Quirrell does._

_So if we look in the mirror, we should see ourselves finding it—which means we'll see where it's hidden! But how can we look without Quirrell realizing what we're up to?_Harry thought.

He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over, landing on Sophie, who cursed. Quirrell ignored them. He was still talking to himself.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

And to Harry and Sophie's horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

"Use a Potter… Use a Potter…"

Quirrell rounded on Harry, who was nearer (made sense, as he was on top of Sophie).

"Yes—Potter—come here."

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding the twins fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet and Quirrell grabbed his sister by the upper arm and pulled her to her feet.

"Come here, Potter" Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry walked toward him.

_I must lie_ he thought desperately _I must look and lie about what I see, that's all._

Quirrell moved close behind him, dragging Sophie with him. Harry breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban.

He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again.

He saw his reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket — and as it did so, Harry felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow—incredibly—he'd gotten the Stone.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Harry screwed up his courage.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he invented. "I — I've won the house cup for Gryffindor."

Quirrell cursed again and Sophie smiled.

"Get out of the way," he said and pulled Harry's sister with him as he walked to the mirror. As Harry moved aside, he felt the Philosopher's Stone against his leg. Dare he make a break for it? _No! I can't leave my sister behind!_

_Run for it Harry!_Sophie thought back but he glared at her.

But he hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.

"He lies… He lies…"

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted, squeezing his sister's upper arm. Sophie let out a small gasp of pain. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"

The high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to them… face to face…"

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough… for this…"

Harry felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting him to the spot and Sophie felt the same way. They couldn't move a muscle. Petrified, they watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.

Harry would have screamed, but he couldn't make a sound. Sophie was beyond screaming: she just stood there, snow white and, mouth open and eyes wide. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Harry Potter…" it whispered. 'And Sophie Potter..."

Harry tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn't move. Sophie didn't even bother.

"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapour… I have form only when I can share another's body… but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks… you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest… and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own… Now… why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Harry's legs. He stumbled backward.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me…or you and you sister will meet the same end as your parents… They died begging me for mercy…"

"LIAR!" Harry shouted suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backward at him with Sophie, so that Voldemort could still see them. The evil face was now smiling.

"How touching…" it hissed. "I always value bravery… Yes, your parents were brave… I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight… but your mother needn't have died… she was trying to protect you…" Sophie's eyes started tearing up. "Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"NEVER!"

Harry sprang toward the flame door, but Voldemort screamed "SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Harry felt Quirrell's hand close on his wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him.

The pain in his head lessened — he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers — they were blistering before his eyes. Sophie turned around and kicked Quirrell in the stomach, forcing him to release her.

"Seize them! SEIZE THEM!" shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck—Harry's scar was almost blinding him with pain, yet he could see Quirrell howling in agony and Sophie hanging around his neck.

"Master, I cannot hold him—my hands—my hands!"

And Quirrell, though pinning Harry to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms—Harry could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

"Then kill the girl first, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but the twins, by instinct, both reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face—

"AAAARGH!"

Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too, and then Harry and Sophie knew: Quirrell couldn't touch their bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain—their only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse.

Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could, while Sophie grabbed his leg. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw both of them off — the pain in Harry and Sophie's heads was building—they couldn't see—they could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Voldemort's yells of, "KILL THEM! KILL THEM!" and other voices, maybe in their own heads, crying, "Harry! Sophie!"

Harry felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from his grasp, Sophie felt her arms taken off Quirrell's leg, both knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down… down… down…

Something gold was glinting just above Harry. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy.

He blinked. It wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange.

He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.

Harry stared at him. Then he remembered: "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick —"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then who does? Sir, I —"

"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realized he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop. He also saw that Sophie was in the next bed, still unconscious.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you, Sophie and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you and Sophie a toilet seat.

"Heh heh," Sophie laughed weakly, waking up and trying to sit up. Dumbledore pushed her down gently and she gave up, resorting to giving her brother a weak smile.

No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

"How long have we been in here?"

"Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have both come round, they have been extremely worried."

"But sir, the Stone—" Sophie sighed at her brother.

"I see you are not to be distracted, Harry. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say."

"You got there? You got Hermione's owl?" Sophie said.

"We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you."

"It was you," she said.

"I feared I might be too late."

"You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer–"

"Not the Stone, boy, you—the effort involved nearly killed you and your sister. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Harry blankly. "But your friend — Nicolas Flamel —"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?" Sophie said.

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."

Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Harry and Sophie's faces.

"To one as young as you two, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all—the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them." Sophie nodded wisely in agreement.

Harry lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling, while Sophie snickered.

"Sir?" said Harry. "I've been thinking… sir—even if the Stone's gone, Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who—"

'Voldemort, Harry," his sister said and Dumbledore nodded.

"Call him Voldemort. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"

"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share… not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, Sophie, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time — and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Harry nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt and Sophie groaned softly. Then she said, "Sir, there are some other things we'd like to know, if you can tell us… things we want to know the truth about…"

"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well… Voldemort said that he only killed our mother because she tried to stop him from killing us. But why would he want to kill us in the first place?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.

"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you two. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day… put it from your mind for now, Harry and Sophie. When you are both older… I know you hate to hear this… when you are ready, you will know."

And the twins knew it would be no good to argue.

"But why couldn't Quirrell touch us?" Sophie said.

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign… to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch both of you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good." Sophie's eyes teared up.

Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave the twins time to dry their eyes on their sheets. When he had found his voice again, Harry said, "And the invisibility cloak—do you know who sent it to me?"

"Ah—your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Useful things… your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here." Sophie smiled.

"And there's something else…"

"Fire away."

"Quirrell said Snape —"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"Yes, him — Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive."

"What?" Sophie said.

"He saved his life."

"What?"

"Yes…" said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt… I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace." And Sophie knew somehow that he wasn't saying everything he knew.

Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.

"And sir, there's one more thing…" Sophie said.

"Just the one?"

"How did Harry get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you two and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone—find it, but not use it—would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes… Now, enough questions. I suggest you both make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bettie Bott's Every Flavour Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavoured one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them — but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Ear wax!"

Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was a nice woman, but very strict.

"Just five minutes," Harry pleaded.

"Absolutely not."

"You let Professor Dumbledore in…" Sophie said.

"Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need rest."

"We are resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey…"

"Oh, very well," she said. "But five minutes only."

And she let Ron and Hermione in.

"Harry! Sophie!"

Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around them again, but the twins were glad she held herself in as their heads were still very sore.

"Oh, Harry, Sophie, we were sure you were going to—Dumbledore was so worried—"

"The whole school's talking about it," said Ron. "What really happened?"

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumours. Harry and Sophie told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. Ron and Hermione were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Harry told them what was under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud.

"So the Stone's gone?" said Ron finally. "Flamel's just going to die?"

"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that — what was it? — 'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure'," Sophie replied.

"I always said he was off his rocker," said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.

"So what happened to you two?" said Harry.

"Well, I got back all right," said Hermione. "I brought Ron round—that took a while—and we were dashing up to the Owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall—he already knew—he just said, 'Harry and Sophie have gone after him, haven't they?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"D'you think he meant you two to do it?" said Ron. "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"

"Well," Hermione exploded, "if he did — I mean to say that's terrible — you could have been killed."

"No, it isn't," said Harry thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could…" Sophie nodded.

"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," said Ron proudly. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course—you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you—but the food'll be good."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT," she said firmly.

After a good night's sleep, the twins felt nearly back to normal.

"We want to go to the feast," Harry told Madam Pomfrey as she straightened his many candy boxes.

"We can, can't we?" Sophie asked.

"Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go," she said stiffly, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn't realize how risky feasts could be. "And you have another visitor."

"Oh, good," said Harry.

"Who is it?" his sister said.

Hagrid sidled through the door as he spoke. As usual when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Harry, took one look at him, and burst into tears.

"It's—all—my—ruddy—fault!" he sobbed, his face in his hands. "I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn't know, an' I told him! Yeh two could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out an' made ter live as a Muggle!"

"Hagrid!" said Sophie, she and Harry shocked to see Hagrid shaking with grief and remorse, great tears leaking down into his beard.

"Hagrid, he'd have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we're talking about, he'd have found out even if you hadn't told him," Harry said.

"Yeh both could've died!" sobbed Hagrid. "An' don' say the name!"

"VOLDEMORT!" Harry and Sophie bellowed, and Hagrid was so shocked, he stopped crying. "We've met him and we're calling him by his name. Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it's gone, he can't use it. Have a Chocolate Frog, we've got loads…"

Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, "That reminds me. I've got yeh both a present."

"It's not a stoat sandwich, is it?" said Harry anxiously, and at last Hagrid gave a weak chuckle.

"Nah. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. 'course, he shoulda sacked me instead — anyway, got yeh this…"

It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Harry opened it curiously and Sophie looked over his shoulder. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at them from every page were their mother and father.

"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos… knew yeh didn' have any… d'yeh like it?"

Harry and Sophie couldn't speak, but Hagrid understood.

The twins made their way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. They had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving him one last check up, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colours of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

When Harry and Sophie walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. Harry slipped into a seat between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table and Sophie sat between Hermione and Neville and both siblings tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at them.

Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty six and Slytherin, five hundred and thirty two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry and Sophie could see Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.

"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little.

"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…

"First — to Mr. Ronald Weasley…"

Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn.

"…for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

At last there was silence again.

"Second — to Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hermione buried her face in her arms; the twins strongly suspected she had burst into tears.

Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves—they were a hundred points up.

"Third—to Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Sophie Potter…" said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. "… for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house one hundred and twenty points." Sophie blushed the deepest shade of red Harry had ever seen and ducked her head onto his shoulder.

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points — exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the house cup — if only Dumbledore had given Harry and Sophie just one more point.

Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.

"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. Sophie shoved everyone off him and gave him the biggest hug ever, making him blush the same shade of red that she had. He had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before. Harry, still cheering, nudged Ron in the ribs and pointed at Malfoy, who couldn't have looked more stunned and horrified if he'd just had the Body-Bind Curse put on him.

"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration."

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible, forced smile. He caught Harry's eye and Harry and Sophie knew at once that Snape's feelings toward him hadn't changed one jot. This didn't worry Harry. It seemed as though life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts.

It was the best evening of the twins' life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls…they would never, ever forget tonight.

Harry had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. To their great surprise, both he and Ron passed with good marks; Hermione and Sophie, of course, had the best grades of the first years (they got equal marks).

Even Neville scraped through, his good Herbology mark making up for his abysmal Potions one. They had hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he had passed, too. It was a shame, but as Ron said, you couldn't have everything in life.

And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bettie Bott's Every Flavour Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.

It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron, "all three of you — I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," said Sophie.

"We'll need something to look forward to," her brother added. People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:

"Bye, Harry!"

"Later, Sophie!"

"See you, Potter!"

"Still famous," said Ron, grinning at them.

"Not where we're going, we promise you," said Harry.

He, Ron, Sophie and Hermione passed through the gateway together. "There he is, Mum, there he is, look!"

It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.

"Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see—" Sophie laughed to herself and Harry's face went a light pink.

"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point."

Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them.

"Busy year?" she said.

"Very," said Harry.

"Thanks for the chocolate and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley," Sophie said and Harry smiled and nodded.

"Oh, it was nothing, dear."

"Hi Ginny!" Sophie said to Ginny and she blushed, embarrassed and surprised that one of the famous Potter twins was talking to her.

"Yeah, hey Ginny," Harry said and Ginny blushed a deeper shade of red.

"Ready, are you?"

It was Uncle Vernon, still purple-faced, still moustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Harry carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people and Sophie well, just because she existed. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of the twins.

"You must be Harry and Sophie's family!" said Mrs. Weasley.

"In a manner of speaking," said Uncle Vernon. "Hurry up, you two, we haven't got all day." He walked away.

Harry and Sophie hung back for a last word with Ron and Hermione.

"See you over the summer, then."

"Hope you have—er—a good holiday," said Hermione, looking uncertainly after Uncle Vernon, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant.

"Oh, we will," said Harry, and they were surprised at the evil grins that were spreading over his and his sister's faces.

"They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. We're going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer…" Sophie said evilly.

**Finished! Thanks to everyone who has read this story and more thanks to everyone who reviewed! You know who you are:**

**Twiggy (anonymous)  
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Phinneas McCheeser!**

**You guys are SO awesome, love you! And thanks to everyone who favourited and put this story on story alert! And voted in my poll! Look out for Harry and Sophie Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and don't forget to vote in the poll, which will be up until the Goblet of Fire! Bye bye!**


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